Gne 

GIRL  FROM 
HIS  TOWN 


MAR  IB  \5\N  VORST 


355D 


THE  GIRL  FROM  HIS  TOWN 


THE 

GIRL  FROM  HIS  TOWN 


By 
MARIE  VAN  VORST 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

F.  GRAHAM  COOTES 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT  1910 
THE  BOBBS-MERRIU.  COMPANY 


PRESS  OF 

BRAUNWORTH  &  CO. 

BOOKBINDERS  AND  PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN,  N.  Y. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I   DAN  BLAIR 1 

II   THE  DUCHESS  APPROVES        ...  21 

III  THE  BLAIRTOWN  SOLOIST         ...  28 

IV  IN  THE  CORAL  ROOM        ....  31 
V   AT  THE  CARLTON 47 

VI    GALOREY  SEEKS  ADVICE  .        ...  55 

VII   AT  THE  STAGE  ENTRANCE        ...  70 

VIII    DAN'S  SIMPLICITY 76 

IX   DISAPPOINTMENT      .....  85 

X  THE  BOY  FROM  MY  TOWN        ...  94 

XI  EUGGLES  GIVES  A  DINNER        .        .        .  109 

XII  THE  GREEN  KNIGHT         .        .        .        .128 

XIII  THE  FACE  OF  LETTY  LANE      ...  135 

XIV  FROM  INDIA'S  CORAL  STRANDS        .        .  155 
XV  GALORE Y  GIVES  ADVICE  ....  174 

XVI  THE  MUSICALS  PROGRAM         .        .        .  187 

XVII  LETTY  LANE  SINGS 199 

XVIII  A  WOMAN'S  WAY      .;       ...  207 

XIX  DAN  AWAKES 214 

XX  A  HAND  CLASP 225 

XXI  RUGGLES  RETURNS    .               ...  231 


2133469 


CONTENTS—  Continued 

CHAPTER  FAGK 

XXII  WHAT  WILL  You  TAKE?  .        .        .        .234 

XXIII  IN  THE  SUNSET  GLOW      .        .        .        .242 

XXIV  EUGGLES' OFFER 250 

XXV  LETTY  LANE  RUNS  AWAY         ...    268 

XXVI  WHITE  AND  CORAL    ....  274 

XXVII   AT  MAXIM'S 290 

XXVIII   SUCH  STUFF  AS  DREAMS          ...    299 

XXIX    THE  PICTURE  OF  IT  ALL         .        .        .    304 

XXX    SODA  WATER  FOUNTAIN  GIRL  .        .        .    309 

XXXI    IN  REALITY      .        .        .        .        .        .315 

XXXII   THE  PRINCE  ACCEPTS     .        .        .        .319 

XXXIII   THE  THINGS  ABOVE  GROUND  .  .    322 


THE  GIRL  FROM  HIS  TOWN 


BWT.  «T  CAUF. 


THE 
GIRL  FROM  HIS  TOWN 

CHAPTER  I 

DAN  BLAIR 

THE  fact  that  much  he  said,  because  of  his 
unconscionable  slang,  was  incomprehensible 
did  not  take  from  the  charm  of  his  conversation 
as  far  as  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater  was  con- 
cerned. The  brightness  of  his  expression,  his 
quick,  clear  look  upon  them,  his  beautiful  young 
smile,  his  not  too  frequent  laugh,  his  "new  gay- 
ness,"  as  the  duchess  called  his  high  spirits,  his 
supernal  youth,  his  difference,  credited  him  with 
what  nine-tenths  of  the  human  race  lack — 
charm. 

His  tone  was  not  too  crudely  western ;  neither 

did  he  suggest  the  ultra  East  with  which  they 

were  familiar.    American  women  went  down  well 

enough  with  them,  but  American  men  were  un- 

1 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

popular,  and  when  the  visitor  arrived,  Lady  Ga- 
lorey  did  not  even  announce  him  to  the  party 
gathered  for  "the  first  shoot." 

The  others  were  in  the  armory  when  the  ninth 
gun,  a  young  chap,  six  feet  of  him,  blond  as  the 
wheat,  cleanly  set  up  and  very  good  to  look  at, 
came  in  with  Lily,  Duchess  of  Breakwater. 
Lady  Galorey,  his  hostess,  greeted  them. 

"Oh,  here  you  are,  are  you?  Lord  Mersey, 
Sir  John  Fairthrope."  She  mumbled  the  rest 
of  the  names  of  her  companions  as  though  she 
did  not  want  them  understood,  then  waved  to- 
ward the  young  chap,  calling  him  Mr.  Dan 
Blair,  and  he,  as  she  hesitated,  added : 

"From  Blairtown,  Montana." 

"And  give  him  a  gun,  will  you,  Gordon?" 
Lady  Galorey  spoke  to  her  husband. 

"I  discovered  Mr.  Blair,  Edie,"  the  duchess 
announced,  "and  he  didn't  even  know  there  was 
a  shoot  on  for  to-day.  Fancy !" 

"I  guess,"  Dan  Blair  said  pleasantly,  "I'll 
just  take  a  gun  out  of  this  bunch,"  and  he  chose 


DAN    BLAIR 

one  at  random  from  several  indicated  to  him  by 
the  gamekeeper.  "I  get  my  best  luck  when  I  go 
it  blind.  Right!  Thanks.  That's  so,  Lady 
Galorey,  I  didn't  know  there  was  to  be  any  shoot- 
ing until  the  duchess  let  it  out." 

To  himself  he  thought  with  good-natured 
amusement,  "Afraid  I'll  spoil  their  game  record, 
maybe!"  and  went  out  along  with  them,  follow- 
ing the  insular  noblemen  like  a  ray  of  sun,  smil- 
ing on  the  pretty  woman  who  had  discovered  him 
in  the  grounds  where  he  had  been  poking  about 
by  himself. 

"Where,  in  Heaven's  name,  did  you  'corral' 
— word  of  his  own — the  dear  boy^Edith?  How 
did  he  get  to  Osdene  Park,  or  in  fact  anywhere, 
just  as  he  is,  fresh  as  from  Eden?" 

"Thought  I'd  let  him  take  you  by  surprise, 
dearest.  Where'd  you  find  Dan?" 

"Down  by  the  garden  house  feeding  the  rab- 
bits, on  his  knees  like  a  little  boy,  his  hands  full 
of  lettuces.  I'd  just  come  a  cropper  myself  on 
the  mare.  She  fell,  I'm  sorry  to  say,  Edie,  and 
3 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

hacked  her  knees  quite  a  lot.  One  of  those  dis- 
guised ditches,  you  know.  I  was  coming  along 
leading  her  when  I  ran  on  your  friend." 

The  young  duchess  was  slender  as  a  willow, 
very  brunette,  with  a  beautiful,  discontented 
face. 

"I'm  going  to  show  Dan  Blair  off,"  Lady  Ga- 
lorey  responded,  "going  to  give  the  debutantes  a 
chance." 

Placidly  nodding,  the  duchess  lit  a  cigarette 
and  began  to  quote  from  Dan  Blair's  conversa- 
tion :  "I  fancy  he  won't  let  them  'worry  him' ; 
he's  too 'busy!'" 

"You  mean  that  you're  going  to  keep  him  oc- 
cupied?" 

The  duchess  didn't  notice  this. 

"/*  he  such  a  catch?" 

Neither  of  the  women  had  walked  out  with  the 
guns.  The  duchess  had  a  bad  foot,  and  Lady 
Galorey  never  went  anywhere  she  could  help 
with  her  husband.  She  now  drew  her  chair  up 
to  the  table  in  the  morning-room,  to  which  they 
4 


DAN   BLAIR 

had  both  gone  after  the  (departure  of  the  guns, 
and  regarded  with  satisfaction  a  quantity  of 
stationery  and  the  red  leather  desk  appoint- 
ments. 

"Sit  down  and  smoke  if  you  like,  Lily;  I'm 
going  to  fill  out  some  lists." 

"No,  thanks,  I'm  going  up  to  my  rooms  and 
get  Parkins  to  'massey'  this  beastly  foot  of 
mine.  I  must  have  fallen  on  it.  But  tell  me 
first,  is  Mr.  Blair  a  catch?" 

Lady  Galorey  had  opened  an  address  book 
and  looked  up  from  it  to  reply : 

"Something  like  ten  million  pounds." 

"Heavens !    Disgusting !" 

"The  richest  young  man  'west  of  some  river 
or  other.'  At  any  rate  he  told  me  last  night  that 
it  was  'clean  money.'  I  dare  say  the  river  is  re- 
sponsible for  its  cleanliness,  but  that  fact  seemed 
to  give  him  satisfaction." 

The  duchess  was  leaning  on  the  table  at  Lady 
Galorey's  side. 

"Dan's  father  took  Gordon  all  over  the  West 
5 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

that  time  he  went  to  the  States  for  a  big  hunt  in 
the  Rockies.  He  got  to  know  Mr.  Blair  awfully 
well  and  liked  him.  The  old  gentleman  bought 
a  little  property  about  that  time  that  turne^  out 
to  be  a  gold  mine." 

With  persistency  the  duchess  said : 

"How  d'you  know  it  is  'clean  money,'  Edith? 
Not  that  it  makes  a  rap  of  difference,"  she 
laughed  prettily,  "but  how  do  you  know  that  he 
is  rich  to  this  horrible  extent?" 

Lady  Galorey  put  down  her  address  book  im- 
patiently: "Does  he  look  like  an  impostor?" 

The  other  returned :  "Even  the  archangel  fell, 
my  dear  Edith !" 

"Well,"  returned  her  friend,  "this  one  is  too 
young  to  have  fallen  far,"  and  she  shut  up  her 
list  in  desperation. 

The  duchess^  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the 
lounge  and  raised  her  expressive  eyes  to  Lady 
Galorey,  who  once  more  looked  at  her  sarcastic- 
ally, and  went  on : 

"Gordon  liked  the  old  gentleman:  he  was  ex- 
6 


BAN   BLAIR 

traordinarily  generous — quite  a  type.  They 
called  the  town  after  him — Blairtown:  that  is 
where  the  son  'hails  from.'  He  was  a  little  lad 
when  Gordon  was  out  and  Mr.  Blair  promised 
that  Dan  should  come  over  here  and  see  us  one 
day,  and  this,"  she  tapped  the  table  with  her 
pen,  "seems  to  be  the  day,  for  he  came  down 
upon  us  in  this  breezy  way  without  even  sending 
a  wire,  'just  turned  up'  last  night.  Gordon's 
mad  about  him.  His  father  has  been  dead  a 
year,  and  he  is  just  twenty-two." 

"Good  heavens!"  murmured  the  duchess. 
Lady  Galorey  opened  her  address  book  again. 

"Gordon's  got  him  terribly  on  his  mind,  my 
dear;  he  has  forbidden  any  gambling  or  any 
bridge  as  long  as  the  boy  is  with  us.  .  .  ." 

Her  companion  rose  and  thrust  her  hands  into 
the  pocket  of  her  tweed  coat.  She  laughed  soft- 
ly, then  went  over  to  the  long  window  where 
without,  across  the  pane,  the  early  winter  mists 
were  flying,  chased  by  a  furtive  sun. 

"Gordon  said  that  the  boy's  father  treated 
7 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

him  like  a  king,  and  that  while  the  boy  is  here  he 
is  going  to  look  out  for  him." 

Over  her  shoulder  the  other  threw  out  coldly : 

"You  speak  as  though  he  were  in  a  den  of 
thieves.  I  didn't  know  Gordon's  honor  was  so 
fine.  As  for  me,  7  don't  gamble,  you  know." 

Lady  Galorey  had  decided  that  Lily's  insistent 
remaining  gave  her  a  chance  to  fill  her  fountain 
pen.  She  was,  therefore,  carefully  squirting  in 
the  ink,  and  she  flushed  at  her  friend's  last 
words. 

Lady  Galorey  herself  was  the  best  bridge 
player  in  London,  and  cards  were  her  passion. 
She  did  not  remind  the  lady  in  the  window  that 
there  were  other  games  besides  bridge,  but  kept 
both  her  tongue  and  her  temper. 

After  a  little  silence  in  which  the  women  fol- 
lowed each  her  own  thoughts,  the  duchess  mur- 
mured: 

"I'll  toddle  up-stairs,  Edie — let  you  write. 
Where  did  you  say  we  were  going  to  meet  the 
guns  for  food?" 

8 


DAN    BLAIR 

"At  the  gate  by  the  White  Pastures.  There'll 
be  a  cart  and  a  motor  going,  whichever  you  like, 
around  two." 

"Right,"  her  grace  nodded;  "I'll  be  on  time, 
dearest." 

And  Lady  Galorey  with  a  relieved  sigh  heard 
the  door  close  behind  the  duchess.  Wiping  her 
fountain  pen  delicately  with  a  bit  of  chamois,  she 
murmured:  "Well,  Dan  Blair  is  out  of  Eden, 
poor  dear,  if  he  met  her  by  the  gate." 

A  fortune  of  a  round  ten  million  pounds  was  a 
small  part  of  what  this  young  man  had  come 
into  by  direct  inheritance  from  the  Copper  King 
of  Blairtown,  Montana.  For  once  the  money 
figure  had  not  been  exaggerated,  but  Lady  Ga- 
lorey did  not  know  about  the  rest  of  Dan's  inher- 
itance. 

The  young  man  whistling  in  his  rooms  in  the 

bachelor  quarters  of  Osdene  Park  House,  dressed 

for  dinner  without  the  aid  of  a  valet.     When 

Lord  Galorey  had  asked  him  'Sphere  his  man- 

9 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

servant  was,"  Dan  had  grinned.  "Gosh,  I 
wouldn't  have  one  of  those  Johnnies  hanging 
around  me — never  did  have!  I  can  put  on  my 
stockings  all  right!  There  was  a  chap  on  the 
boat  I  came  over  in  who  let  his  man  put  on  his 
stockings.  Can  you  beat  that?"  Blair  had 
laughed  again.  "I  think  if  anybody  tickled  my 
feet  that  way  I  would  be  likely  to  kick  him  in 
the  eye." 

Dressing  in  his  room  he  whistled  under  his 
breath  a  song  from  a  newly  popular  comic 
opera ;  and  he  intoned  with  his  clear  young  voice 
a  line  of  the  words : 

"Should-you-go-to-Mandalay." 

Out  through  his  high  window,  if  he  had 
looked,  he  would  have  seen  the  misty  sweep  of 
the  park  under  the  faint  moonrise  and  fine 
shadows  that  the  leaves  made  in  the  veiled  light, 
but  he  did  not  look  out.  He  was  dressing  for 
dinner  without  a  valet  and  giving  a  great  deal 
of  care  to  his  toilet ;  for  the  first  time  he  was  to 
dine  in  the  house  of  a  nobleman  and  in  the  pres- 
10 


DAN   BLAIR 

ence  of  a  duchess;  not  that  it  meant  a  great 
deal  to  him — he  thought  it  was  "funny." 

In  Dan  Blair's  twenty-two  years  of  utterly 
happy  days  his  one  grief  had  been  the  death  of 
his  father.  As  soon  as  the  old  man  had  died 
Dan  had  gone  off  into  the  Rockies  with  his 
guides  and  not  "shown  up"  for  months.  When 
he  came  back  to  Blairtown,  as  he  expressed  it, 
"he  packed  his  grip  and  beat  it  while  his  shoes 
were  good,"  for*  the  one  place  he  could  remem- 
ber his  father  had  suggested  for  him  to  go. 

Blairtown  was  very  much  impressed  when  the 
heir  came  in  from  the  Rockies  with  "a  big  kill," 
and  the  orphan's  ease  did  not  seem  especially  dis- 
turbed. But  no  one  in  the  town  knew  how  the 
boy's  heart  ached  for  the  old  man.  When  Dan 
was  six  years  old  his  father  had  literally  picked 
him  up  by  the  nape  of  his  neck  and  thrown  him 
into  the  water  like  a  pup  and  watched  him  swim. 
At  eight  he  sent  the  boy  off  with  a  gun  to  rough- 
camp.  Then  he  took  Dan  down  in  the  mines 
with  the  men.  His  education  had  been  won  in 
11 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

Blairtown,  at  a  school  called  public,  but  which 
in  reality  was  nothing  more  than  a  pioneer  dis- 
trict school. 

On  Sundays  Dan  dressed  up  and  went  with 
his  father  to  church  twice  a  day  and  in  the 
week-days  his  father  took  him  to  the  prayer- 
meetings,  and  at  sixteen  Dan  went  to  college  in 
California.  He  had  just  completed  his  course 
when  old  Blair  died.  Then  he  inherited  fifty  mil- 
lion dollars. 

On  the  day  of  the  shoot  at  Osdene,  Dan 
dropped  sixty  birds.  He  tried  very  hard  not  to 
be  too  pleased.  "Gosh,"  he  thought  to  him- 
self, "those  birds  fell  as  though  they  were 
trained  all  right,  and  the  other  sports  were 
mad,  I  could  see  it."  He  then  fell  to  whistling 
softly  the  air  he  had  heard  Lady  Galorey  play 
the  night  before  from  the  new  success  at  the 
Gaiety,  and  finished  it  as  his  toilet  completed  it- 
self. He  took  up  a  gardenia  from  his  dressing- 
table,  and  fastened  it  in  his  coat,  stopping  on 
the  stairs  on  the  way  down  to  look  over  into  the 
12 


DAN   BLAIR 

hall,  where  the  men  in  their  black  clothes  and  the 
women  in  their  shining  dresses  waited  before 
going  into  the  dining-room.  The  lights  fell  on 
white  arms  and  necks,  on  jewels  and  on  fine 
proud  heads.  Dan  Blair  had  been  in  San  Fran- 
cisco and  in  New  York,  on  short  journeys,  how- 
ever, which  his  father,  the  year  before,  had  di- 
rected him  to  take,  but  he  had  never  seen  a 
"show"  like  this. 

He  came  slowly  down  the  broad  stairway  of 
the  Osdene  Park  House,  the  last  guest.  In  the 
corner,  where,  behind  her,  a  piece  of  fourteenth 
century  tapestry  cut  a  green  and  pink  square 
against  the  rich  black  oak  paneling,  the  Duch- 
ess of  Breakwater  sat  waiting.  She  wore 
a  dress  of  golden  tulle  which  was  simply  a 
sheath  to  her  slender  body,  and  from  her  neck 
hung  a  long  rope  of  diamonds  caught  at  the 
end  by  a  small  black  fan;  there  was  a  wreath 
of  diamonds  like  shining  water  drops  linked  to- 
gether in  her  hair.  She  was  the  grandest  lady 
at  Osdene,  and  renowned  in  more  than  one  sense 
13 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

of  the  word.  As  Dan  saw  her  smile  at  him  and 
rise,  he  thought : 

"She  is  none  too  sorry  that  I  made  that  rec- 
ord, but  I  hope  to  heaven  she  won't  say  anything 
to  me  about  it." 

And  the  duchess  did  not  speak  of  it.  Telling 
him  that  he  was  to  take  her  in  to  dinner,  she 
laid  first  her  fan  on  his  arm  and  then  her  hand. 
And  Dan,  one  of  those  fortunate  creatures  who 
are  born  men  of  the  world  when  they  get  into  it, 
gave  her  his  arm  with  much  grace,  and  as  he 
leaned  down  toward  her  he  thought  to  himself: 

"Well,  it's  lucky  for  me  I  have  my  head  on 
tight ;  a  few  more  of  those  goo-goo  eyes  of  hers 
and  it  would  be  as  well  for  me  to  light  out  for 
the  woods." 

Dan  liked  best  at  Osdene  Park  his  chin-chins 
with  Gordon  Galorey.  The  young  man  was  un- 
flatteringly  frank  in  his  choice  of  companions. 
When  the  duchess  looked  about  for  him  to  ride 
with  her,  walk  with  her,  to  find  the  secluded 
14 


DAN   BLAIR 

corners,  to  talk,  to  play  with  him,  she  was  likely 
to  discover  Dan  gone  off  with  Lord  Galorey,  and 
to  come  upon  them  later,  sitting  enveloped  in 
smoke,  a  stand  of  drinks  by  their  side. 

To  Galorey,  who  had  no  heir  or  child,  the 
boy's  presence  proved  to  be  the  happiest  thing 
that  had  come  to  him  for  a  long  time.  He  talked 
a  great  deal  to  Dan  about  the  old  man.  Galorey 
was  poor  and  the  fact  of  a  fortune  of  ten 
million  pounds  possessed  by  this  one  boy 
was  continually  before,  his  mind  like  an  obses- 
sion. It  was  like  looking  down  into  a  gold  mine. 
Galorey  tried  often  to  broach  the  subject  of 
money,  but  Dan  kept  off.  At  length  Galorey 
asked  boldly: 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it?"  On  this 
occasion  they  were  walking  over  from  the  lower 
park  back  to  the  house,  a  couple  of  terriers  at 
their  heels. 

"Do  with  what?"  Blair  asked  innocently.  He 
was  looking  at  the  trees.  He  was  comparing 
their  grayish  green  trunks  and  their  foliage  with 
15 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

the  California  redwoods.  A  little  taken  aback, 
Lord  Galorey  laughed. 

"Why,  with  that  colossal  fortune  of  yours." 

And  Blair  answered  unhesitatingly:  "Oh — 
spend  it  on  some  girl  sooner  or  later." 

Galorey  fairly  staggered.  Then  he  took  it 
humorously. 

"My  dear  chap,  I  never  saw  a  sweeter,  bigger 
man  than  your  father.  If  he  had  been  my 
father,  I  dare  say  I  might  have  pulled  off  a  dif- 
ferent yard  of  hemp,  but  I  must  confess  that 
I  think  he  has  left  you  too  much  money." 

"Well,  there  are  a  lot  of  fellows  who  are  ready 
to  look  after  it  for  me,"  Blair  answered  coolly. 
Before  his  companion  could  redden,  he  con- 
tinued :  "You  see,  dad  took  care  of  me  for  twen- 
ty-one years  all  right,  and  whenever  I  am  up  a 
stump,  why  all  I  have  to  do  is  to  remember  the 
things  he  did." 

For  the  first  time  since  his  arrival  at  Osdene 
Dan's  tone  was  serious.  Interested  as  he  was  in 
the  older  man,  Dan's  inclination  was  to  evade 
16 


DAN    BLAIR 

the  discussion  of  serious  subjects.  With  Blair's 
slang,  his  conversation  was  almost  incomprehen- 
sible. 

"Dad  didn't  gas  much,"  the  boy  said,  "but  I 
could  draw  a  map  of  some  of  the  things  he  did 
say.  He  used  to  say  he  made  his  money  out  of 
the  earth." 

The  two  were  walking  side  by  side  across  the 
rich  velvet  of  the  immemorial  English  turf.  The 
extreme  softness  of  the  autumn  day,  its  shifting 
lights,  its  mellow  envelope,  the  beauty  of  the 
park — the  age,  the  stability,  the  harmony, 
served  to  touch  the  young  fellow's  spirits.  At 
any  rate  there  was  a  ring  in  him,  an  equilibrium 
that  surprised  Galorey. 

"  'Most  things,'  dad  said  to  me,  'go  back 
to  the  earth.'"  He  struck  the  English  turf 
with  his  stick.  "Dad  said  a  fellow  had  better 
buy  those  things  that  stay  above  the  ground." 
Dan  smiled  frankly  at  his  companion.  "Curious 
thing  to  say,  wasn't  it?"  he  reflected.  "I  re- 
membered it,  and  I  got  to  wondering  after  I 
17 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

saw  him  buried,  'what  are  the  things  that  stay 
above  the  ground?'  The  old  man  never  gave  me 
another  talk  like  that." 

After  a  few  seconds  Galorey  put  in : 

"But,  my  dear  chap,  you  did  give  me  a  shock 
up  there  just  now  when  you  said  you  were  going 
to  spend  'all  your  money  on  some  girl.' " 

The  millionaire  took  a  chestnut  from  his 
pocket.  He  held  it  high  above  his  head  and  the 
little  dog  that  had  been  yelping  at  his  heels 
fixed  his  eyes  on  it.  Blair  poised  it,  then  threw 
it  as  far  as  he  could.  It  sped  through  the  air 
and  the  terrier  ran  like  mad  across  the  park. 

"I  like  girls  awfully,  Gordon,  and  when  I 
find  the  right  one,  why,  then  I'm  going  to  feel 
what  a  bully  thing  it  is  to  be  rich." 

Lord  Galorey  groaned  aloud. 

"My  dear  chap !"  he  exclaimed. 

The  spell  of  the  day,  the  fragrant  beauty  of 

the  time  and  place  and  hour  were  clearly  upon 

Dan  Blair.     Lord  Galorey  was  sympathetic  to 

him.     The  terrier  came  tearing  back  with  the 

18 


DAN    BLAIR 

chestnut  held  between  his  thick  jaws.  Dan  bent 
down  to  take  the  nut  from  the  dog  and  wrestled 
with  him  gently. 

"Swell  little  grip  he's  got.  Nice  old  pup! 
Let  it  go  now!"  And  he  threw  the  nut  far 
again,  and  as  the  terrier  ran  once  more  Blair 
thrust  his  hands  down  in  his  pockets  and  began 
softly  to  whistle  the  tune  of  Mandalay. 

He  said  slowly,  going  back  to  his  subject: 
"It  must  be  great  to  feel  that  a  fellow  can  give 
her  jewels  like  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater's, 
ropes  of  'em" — he  nodded  toward  the  house — 
"and  a  fine  old  place  like  this  now,  and  motors 
and  yachts  and  all  kinds  of  stuff." 

His  eyes  rested  on  the  suave  lines  of  the  Eliza- 
bethan house,  with  its  softened  gables  and  its 
banked  terraces.  Possibly  his  vivid  imagination 
pictured  "some  nice  girl"  there  waiting,  as  they 
should  come  up,  to  meet  him. 

"I  have  always  thought  it  would  be  bully  to 
find  a  poor  girl — pretty  as  a  peach,  of  course 
— one  who  had  never  had  much,  and  just 
19 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

cover  her  with  things.  Hey,  there!"  he  cried 
to  the  terrier,  who  had  come  running  back, 
"bring  it  to  me." 

They  had  come  up  to  the  terrace  by  this,  and 
Dan's  confidence,  fresh  as  a  gush  of  water  from 
a  rock,  had  ceased.  His  face  was  placid.  He 
didn't  realize  what  he  had  said. 

From  out  of  one  of  the  long  windows,  dressed 
in  a  sable  coat,  her  small  head  tied  up  in  a  motor 
scarf,  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater  appeared. 
She  greeted  them  severely,  and  Lord  Galorey 
hear  her  say  under  her  breath  to  Dan : 

"You  promised  to  be  back  to  drive  with  me 
before  dinner,  Dan.  Did  you  forget?" 

And  as  Galorey  left  the  boy  to  make  his 
peace,  the  first  smile  of  amusement  broke  over 
his  face.  He  felt  that  the  duchess  had  between 
her  and  her  capture  of  Dan  Blair's  heart  the  elu- 
sive picture  of  some  "nice  girl" — not  much  per- 
haps, but  it  might  be  very  hard  to  tear  away  the 
picture  of  the  ideal  that  was  ever  before  the  blue 
eyes  of  this  man  who  had  a  fortune  to  spend  on 
her! 

20 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   DUCHESS   APPROVES 

HIS  attentions  to  the  Duchess  of  Break- 
water had  not  been  so  conspicuous  or  so 
absorbing  as  to  prevent  the  eager  mothers — who, 
true  to  her  word,  Lady  Galorey  had  invited 
down — from  laying  siege  to  Dan  Blair.  Lady 
Galorey  asked  him: 

"Don't  you  want  to  marry  any  one  of  these 
beauties,  Dan?"  And  Blair,  with  his  beautiful 
smile  and  what  Lily  called  his  inspired  candor, 
answered : 

"Not  on  your  life,  Lady  Galorey !" 

And  she  agreed,  "I  think  myself  you  are  too 
young." 

"No,"  Dan  refuted,  "you  are  wrong  there.  I 
shall  marry  as  fast  as  I  can." 

His  hostess  was  surprised. 
31 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

"Why,  I  thought  you  wanted  your  fling  first." 

And  Dan,  from  his  chair,  in  which,  with  a 
book,  he  had  been  sitting  when  Lady  Galorey 
found  him,  answered  cheerfully : 

"Oh,  I  don't  like  being  alone.  I  want  to  go 
about  with  some  one.  I  should  like  a  fling  all 
right,  but  I  want  to  fling  with  somebody  as 
I  go." 

The  lady  of  the  house  was  not  a  philosopher 
nor  an  analyst.  She  had  certain  affairs  of  her 
own  and  was  engrossed  in  them  and  lived  in 
them.  As  far  as  Lady  Galorey  was  concerned 
the  rest  of  the  world  might  go  and  hang  itself 
as  long  as  it  didn't  do  it  at  her  gate-post.  But 
Blair  couldn't  leave  any  one  indifferent  to  him 
very  long,  not  unless  one  could  be  indifferent  to 
a  blaze  of  sunlight;  one  must  either  draw  the 
blinds  down  or  bask  in  its  brightness. 

She  laughed.  "You're  perfectly  delicious! 
You  mean  to  say  you  want  to  be  married  at  once 
and  let  your  wife  fling  around  with  you?" 

"Just  that." 


THE    DUCHESS    APPROVES 

"How  sweet  of  you,  Dan !  And  you  won't 
marry  one  of  these  girls  here?" 

"Don't  fill  the  bill,  Lady  Galorey." 
"Oh,  you  have  a  sweetheart  at  home,  then  ?" 
"All  off!"  he  assured  her  blithely,  and  rose, 
tall  and  straight  and  slender. 

The  Duchess  of  Breakwater  had  come  in,  in- 
deed she  never  failed  to  when  there*  was  any 
question  of  finding  Blair. 

Dan  stood  straightly  before  the  two  women 
of  an  old  race,  and  the  American  didn't  sug- 
gest any  line  of  noble  ancestors  whatsoever. 
His  features  were  rather  agglomerate;  his 
muscles  were  possibly  not  the  perfect  elastic 
specimens  that  were  those  muscles  whose  strain 
and  sinew  had  been  made  from  the  same  stock 
for  generations.  He  was,  nevertheless,  very 
good  to  look  on.  Any  woman  would  have 
thought  so,  and  he  bent  his  blond  head  as  he 
looked  at  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater  with  some- 
thing like  benevolence,  something  of  his  father's 
kindness  in  his  clear  blue  eyes.  Neither  of  the 
23 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

noble  ladies  vaguely  understood  him.  His  host- 
ess thought  him  "a  good  sort,"  not  half  bad,  a 
splendid  catch,  and  the  other  woman,  only  a 
few  years  his  senior,  was  in  love  with  him.  The 
duchess  had  married  at  eighteen,  tired  of  her 
bargain  at  twenty,  and  found  herself  a  widow 
at  twenty-five.  She  held  a  telegram  in  her  hand. 

"We've  got  the  box  for  Mandcday  to-night  at 
the  Gaiety,  and  let's  motor  in." 

Only  Lady  Galorey  hesitated,  disappointed. 

"Too  bad — I  had  specially  arranged  for 
Lady  Grandcourt  to  drive  over  with  Eileen.  I 
thought  it  would  be  a  ripping  chance  for  her 
to  see  Dan." 

When  at  length  the  duchess  had  succeeded  in 
getting  Dan  to  herself  toward  the  end  of  the 
day  in  the  red  room,  after  tea,  she  said: 

"So  you  won't  marry  a  London  beauty?" 

And  rather  coldly  Dan  had  answered : 

"Why,  you  talk,  all  of  you,  as  if  I  had  only 
to  ask  any  girl  of  them,  and  she  would  jump 
down  my  throat." 

M 


THE    DUCHESS    APPROVES 

"Don't  try  it,"  the  duchess  answered,  "unless 
you  want  to  have  your  mouth  full !" 

Dan  did  not  reply  for  a  second,  but  he  looked 
at  her  more  seriously,  conscious  of  her  grace 
and  her  good  looks.  She  was  certainly  better  to 
look  at  than  the  simple  girls  with  their  big  hands, 
small  wits,  long  faces,  and,  as  the  boy  expressed 
it,  "utter  lack  of  get-up."  The  duchess  shone 
out  to  advantage. 

"Why  don't  you  talk  to  me?"  she  asked 
softly.  "You  know  you  would  rather  talk  to 
me  than  the  others." 

"Yes,"  he  said  frankly ;  "they  make  me  nerv- 
ous." 

"And  I  don't?" 

"No,"  he  said.  "I  learn  a  lot  every  time  we 
are  together." 

"Learn?"  she  repeated,  not  particularly  flat- 
tered by  this.  "What  sort  of  things?" 

"Oh,  about  the  whole  business,"  he  returned 
vaguely.  "You  know  what  I  mean." 

"Then,"  she  said  with  a  slight  laugh,  "you 
25 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

mean  to  say  you  talk  witH  me  for  educational 
purposes?  What  a  beastly  bore!" 

Dan  did  not  contradict  her.  She  was  by  no 
means  Eve  to  him,  nor  was  he  the  raw  recruit 
his  simplicity  might  give  one  to  think.  He  had 
had  his  temptations  and  his  way  out  of  them 
was  an  easy  one;  for  he  was  very  slow  to  stir, 
and  back  of  all  was  his  ideal.  The  reality  and 
power  of  this  ideal  Dan  knew  best  at  moments 
like  these.  But  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater  was 
the  most  lovely  woman — the  most  dangerous 
woman  that  had  come  his  way.  He  liked  her — 
Dan  was  well  on  the  way  to  love. 

The  two  were  alone  in  the  big  dark  room.  At 
their  side  the  small  table,  from  which  they  had 
taken  their  tea  together,  stood  with  its  empty 
cups  and  its  silver.  Without,  the  day  was  cold 
and  windy,  and  the  sunset  threw  along  the  panes 
a  red  reflection.  The  light  fell  on  the  Duchess  of 
Breakwater,  something  like  a  veil — a  crimson 
veil  slipped  over  her  face  and  breast.  She  leaned 
toward  Dan,  and  between  them  there  was  no 


THE    DUCHESS    APPROVES 

more  barrier  than  the  western  light.  He  felt 
his  pulses  beat  and  a  tide  rising  within  him. 
She  was  a  delicious  emanation,  fragrant  and 
near,  and  as  he  might  have  gathered  a  cluster 
of  flowers,  so  in  the  next  second  he  would  have 
taken  her  in  his  arms,  but  from  the  other  room 
just  then  Lady  Galorey,  at  the  piano,  played  a 
snatch  from  Mandalay,  striking  at  once  into 
the  tune.  The  sound  came  suddenly,  told  them 
quickly  some  one  was  near,  and  the  Duchess  of 
Breakwater  involuntarily  moved  back,  and  so 
knocked  the  small  tray,  jostled  it,  and  it  fell  clat- 
tering to  the  floor. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE    BLAIRTOWN    SOLOIST 

BLAIRTOWN  had  a  population  of  some 
eight  thousand.  There  was  a  Presbyte- 
rian church  to  which  Dan  and  his  father  went 
regularly,  sitting  in  the  bare  pew  when  the  win- 
ter's storms  beat  and  rattled  on  the  panes,  or  in 
the  summer  sunshine,  when  the  flies  thronged 
the  window  casings,  when  the  smell  of  the  pews 
and  the  panama  fans  and  the  hymn-books  came 
strong  to  them  through  the  heat. 

One  day  there  was  a  missionary  sermon,  and 
for  the  first  time  in  its  history  a  girl  sang  a 
solo  in  the  First  Presbyterian  Church.  Dan 
Blair  heard  it,  looked  up,  and  it  made  a  mark  in 
his  life.  A  girl  in  a  white  dress  trimmed  with 
blue  gentians,  white  cotton  gloves,  and  golden 
hair,  was  the  soloist.  He  knew  her,  that  is,  he 


THE    BLAIRTOWN    SOLOIST 

had  a  nodding  acquaintance  with  her.  It  was 
the  girl  at  the  drug  store  who  sold  soda-water, 
and  he  had  asked  her  some  hundreds  of  times 
for  a  "vanilla  or  a  chocolate,"  but  it  wasn't  this 
vulgar  memory  that  made  the  little  boy  listen. 
It  was  the  girl's  voice.  Standing  back  of  the 
yellow-painted  rail,  above  the  minister's  pulpit, 
above  the  flies,  the  red  pews  and  the  panama 
fans,  she  sang,  and  she  sang  into  Dan  Blair's 
soul.  To  speak  more  truly,  she  made  him  a  soul 
in  that  moment.  She  awakened  the  boy ;  his  col- 
lar felt  tight,  his  cheeks  grew  hot.  He  felt  his 
new  boots,  too,  hard  and  heavy.  She  made  him 
want  to  cry.  These  were  the  physical  sensa- 
tions— the  material  part  of  the  awakening.  The 
rest  went  on  deeply  inside  of  Dan.  She  broke 
his  heart;  then  she  healed  it.  She  made  him 
want  to  cry  like  a  girl ;  then  she  wiped  his  tears. 
The  little  boy  settled  back  and  grew  more 
comfortable  and  listened,  and  what  she  sang  was, 

"From  Greenland's  icy  mountains, 
From  India's  coral  stra — ands." 

29 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

Before  the  hymn  reached  its  end  he  was  a 
calm  boy  again,  and  the  hymn  took  up  its  pic- 
tures and  became  like  an  illustrated  book  of 
travels,  and  he  wanted  to  see  those  pea-green 
peaks  of  Greenland,  to  float  upon  the  icebergs 
to  them,  and  see  the  dawn  break  on  the  polar 
seas  as  the  explorers  do.  ...  He  should  find 
the  North  Pole  some  day!  Then  he  wanted  to 
go  to  an  African  jungle,  where  the  tiger,  "tiger 
shining  bright,"  should  flash  his  stripes  before 
his  eyes!  Dan  would  gather  wreaths  of  coral 
from  the  stra — ands  and  give  them  to  the  girl 
with  the  yellow  hair !  When  he  and  his  father 
came  out  together  from  the  church,  Dan 
chose  the  street  that  passed  the  soda-fountain 
drug  store  and  peeped  in.  It  was  dark  and  cool, 
and  behind  the  counter  the  drug  clerk  mixed  the 
summer  drinks :  and  the  drug  clerk  mixed  them 
from  that  time  ever  afterward — for  the  girl  with 
the  yellow  hair  never  showed  up  in  Blairtown 
again.  She  went  away! 


30 


CHAPTER  IV 

IN   THE   CORAL  BOOM 

'TV/T  ANDALAY" had  run  at  the  Gaiet? the 

•i.  T  A  season  before  and  again  opened  the  au- 
tumn season.  Light  and  charming,  thoroughly 
musical,  it  had  toured  successfully  through 
Europe,  but  London  was  its  home,  and  its  great 
popularity  was  chiefly  owing  to  the  girl  who 
had  starred  in  it — Letty  Lane.  Her  face  was 
on  every  post-card,  hand-bill,  cosmetic  box,  and 
even  popular  drinks  were  named  for  her. 

The  night  of  the  Osdene  box  party  was  the 
reopening  of  Mandalay,  and  the  curtain  went 
up  after  the  overture  to  an  outburst  of  ap- 
plause. Dan  Blair  had  never  "crossed  the  pond" 
before  this  memorable  visit,  when  he  had  gone 
straight  out  to  Osdene  Park.  London  theaters 
and  London  itself,  indeed,  were  unexplored  by 
31 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

him.  He  had  seen  what  there  was  to  be  seen  of 
the  opera  bouffe  in  his  own  country,  but  the 
brilliant,  perfect  performance  of  a  company  at 
the  London  Gaiety  he  had  yet  to  enjoy. 

The  opening  scene  of  Mandalay  is  oriental ; 
the  burst  of  music  and  the  tinkling  of  the  sil- 
very temple  bells  and  the  effect  of  an  extremely 
blue  sea,  made  Dan  "sit  up,"  as  he  put  it.  The 
theatrical  picture  was  so  perfect  that  he  lifted 
his  head,  pushed  his  chair  back  to  enjoy.  He 
was  thus  close  to  the  duchess.  With  invigorat- 
ing young  enthusiasm  the  boy  drew  in  his  breath 
and  waited  to  be  amused  and  to  hear.  The  tunes 
he  already  knew  before  the  orchestra  began  to 
charm  his  ear. 

On  landing  at  Plymouth  Dan  had  been  keen 
to  feel  that  he  was  really  stepping  into  the 
world,  and  at  Osdene  Park  he  had  been  daily, 
hourly  "seeing  life."  The  youngest  of  the 
household,  his  youth  nevertheless  was  not  taken 
into  consideration  by  any  of  them.  No  one  had 
treated  him  like  a  junior.  He  had  gone  neck 


IN   THE    CORAL   ROOM 

to  neck  with  their  pace  as  far  as  he  liked,  fur- 
nished them  fresh  amusement,  and  been  their 
diversion.  In  all  his  rare  unspoiled  youth,  Blair 
had  been  suddenly  dropped  down  in  an  effete 
set  that  had  whirled  about  him,  and  one  by 
one  out  of  the  inner  circle  had  called  him  to  join 
tliem ;  and  one  by  one  with  all  of  them  Dan  had 
whirled. 

Lord  Galorey  had  talked  to  him  frankly,  as 
plainly  as  if  Dan  had  been  his  own  father,  and 
found  much  of  the  old  man's  common  sense  in 
his  fine  blond  head.  Lady  Galorey  had  come 
to  him  in  a  moment  of  great  anxiety,  and  no  one 
but  her  young  guest  knew  how  badly  she  needed 
help.  He  had  further  made  it  known  to  the 
lady  that  he  was  not  in  the  marriage  market; 
that  she  could  not  have  him  for  any  of  her  girls. 
And  as  for  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater,  well — 
he  had  whirled  with  her  until  his  head  swam. 
He  had  grown  years  older  at  the  Park  in  the 
few  weeks  of  hie  visit,  but  now  for  the  first  time, 
as  the  music  of  Mandalay  struck  upon  his  ears, 
33 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

like  a  ripple  of  distant  seas,  he  felt  like  the  boy 
who  had  left  Blairtown  to  come  abroad.  He 
had  spent  the  most  part  of  the  day  in  London 
with  a  man  who  had  come  over  to  see  him  from 
America.  Dan  attended  to  his  business  affairs, 
and  the  people  who  knew  said  that  he  had  a  keen 
head.  Mr.  Joshua  Ruggles,  his  father's  best 
friend,  whom  Dan  this  afternoon  had  left  to  go 
to  his  room  at  the  Carlton,  had  put  his  arm  with 
affection  through  the  boy's : 

"Don't  look  as  though  it  were  any  too  healthy 
down  to  the  place  you're  visiting  at,  Dan. 
Plumbing  all  right?" 

And  the  boy,  flushing  slightly,  had  said: 
"Don't  you  fret.  Josh,  I'll  look  after  my  health 
all  right." 

"There's  nothing  like  the  mountain  air/'  re- 
turned the  Westerner.  "These  old  fogs  stick  in 
my  nostrils ;  feel  as  though  I  could  smell  London 
clean  down  to  my  feet !" 

From  the  corner  of  the  box  Dan  looked  hard 
34 


IN    THE    CORAL   ROOM       , 

at  the  stage,  at  the  fresh  brilliant  costumes  and 
the  lovely  chorus  girls. 

"Gosh,"  he  thought  to  himself,  "they  are  the 
prettiest  ever!  Dove-gray,  eyes  of  Irish  blue, 
mouths  like  roses !" 

Leaning  forward  a  little  toward  the  duchess 
he  whispered:  "There  isn't  one  who  isn't  a  win- 
ner. I  never  struck  such  a  box  of  dry  goods !" 

The  duchess  smiled  on  Dan  with  good  humor. 
His  naive  pleasure  was  delightful.  It  was  like 
taking  a  child  to  a  pantomime.  She  was  wearing 
his  flowers  and  displaying  a  jewel  that  he  had 
found  and  bought  for  her,  and  which  she  had 
not  hesitated  to  accept.  She  watched  his  eager 
face  and  his  pleasure  unaffected  and  keen.  She 
could  not  believe  that  this  young  man  was  mas- 
ter of  ten  million  pounds. 

When  Letty  Lane  appeared  Blair  heard  a 
light  rustle  like  rain  through  the  auditorium,  a 
murmur,  and  the  house  rose.  There  was  a  well- 
bred  calling  from  the  stalls,  a  call  from  the 
pit,  and  a  generous  applause — "Letty  Lane 
35 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

— Letty  Lane !"  and  as  though  she  were  royalty, 
there  was  a  fluttering  of  handkerchiefs  like 
flags.  The  young  fellow  with  the  others  stood 
in  the  back  of  the  box,  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
looking  at  the  stage.  There  wasn't  a  girl  in  the 
chorus  as  pretty  as  this  prima  donna!  Letty 
Lane  came  on  in  Mandalay  in  the  first  act  in  the 
dress  of  a  fashionable  princess.  She  was  modish 
and  worldly.  For  the  only  time  in  the  play  she 
was  modern  and  conventional,  and  whatever 
breeding  she  might  have  been  able  to  claim, 
from  whatever  class  she  was  born,  as  she  stood 
there  in  her  beautiful  gown  she  was  grace  itself, 
and  charm.  She  was  distinctly  a  star,  and 
showed  her  appreciation  of  her  audience's  ad- 
miration. 

At  the  end  of  the  tenor  solo  the  Princess  Ol- 
tary  runs  into  the  pavilion  and  there  changes 
her  dress  and  appears  once  more  to  dance  before 
the  rajah  and  to  prove  herself  the  dancer  he 
has  known  and  loved  in  a  cafe  in  Paris.  Letty 
Lane's  dress  in  this  dance  was  the  classic  ballet 


IN   THE    CORAL   ROOM 

dancer's,  white  as  the  leaves  of  a  lily.  She  seemed 
to  swim  and  float ;  actually  to  be  breathed  and 
exhaled  from  out  her  filmy  gown;  and  the 
only  ray  of  color  in  her  costume  was  her  own 
golden  hair,  surmounted  by  a  small  coral-colored 
cap,  embroidered  in  pearls.  The  actress  bowed 
to  the  right  and  left,  ran  to  the  right,  ran  to  the 
left ;  glanced  toward  the  Duchess  of  Break- 
water's box;  acknowledged  the  burst  of  ap- 
plause ;  began  to  dance  and  finished  her  pas  seul, 
and  with  folded  hands  sang  her  song.  Her 
beautiful  voice  came  out  clear  as  crystal  water 
from  a  crystal  rock,  and  her  words  were  cradled 
like  doves,  like  boats  on  the  boundless  seas.  .  .  . 

"From  India's  coral  strand.    .    .  " 

But  there  was  no  hymn  tune  to  this  song  of 
Letty  Lane's  in  Mandalay!  To  the  boy  in  the 
box,  however,  the  words,  the  tune,  the  droning 
of  the  flies  on  the  window-pane,  the  strong  odor 
of  the  hymn-books  and  panama  fans,  came  back, 
37 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

and  the  clear  sunlight  of  Montana  seemed  to 
steal  into  the  Gaiety  as  Letty  Lane  sang. 

The  Duchess  of  Breakwater  clapped  with 
frank  enthusiasm,  and  said:  "She  is  a  perfect 
wonder,  isn't  she?  Oh,  she  is  too  bewitching!" 

And  she  turned  for  sympathy  to  her  friend, 
who  stood  behind  her,  his  face  illumined.  He 
was  amazed;  his  blue  eyes  ablaze,  his  head  bent 
forward,  he  was  staring,  staring  at  the  Gaiety 
curtain,  gone  down  on  the  first  act. 

He  laughed  softly,  and  the  duchess  heard  him 
say: 

"Good!  Well,  I  should  say  she  was!  She's 
a  girl  from  our  town !" 

When  the  duchess  tried  to  share  her  enthusi- 
asm with  Dan  he  had  disappeared.  He  left  the 
box  and  with  no  difficulty  made  his  way  as  far 
as  the  first  wing. 

"Can  you  get  me  an  entrance?"  he  asked  a 
man  he  had  met  once  at  Osdene  and  who  was 
evidently  an  habitue. 

"I  dare  say.    Rippin'  show,  isn't  it?" 
3? 


IN    THE    CORAL   ROOM 

Dan  put  his  hand  on  ducal  shoulders  and  fol- 
lowed the  nobleman  through  the  labyrinth  of 
flies. 

"Which  of  'em  do  you  want  to  see,  old  man?" 

Dan,  without  replying,  went  forward  to  a 
small  cluster  of  lights  in  one  of  the  wings.  He 
went  forward  intuitively,  and  his  companion 
caught  his  arm:  "Oh,  I  say,  for  God's  sake, 
don't  go  on  like  this !" 

But  without  response  Dan  continued  his  direc- 
tion. A  call  page  stood  before  the  door,  and 
Dan,  on  a  card  over  the  entrance,  read  "Miss 
Lane."  The  smell  of  calcium  and  paint  and 
perfume  and  the  auxiliaries  hung  heavy  on 
the  air.  The  other  man  saw  Dan  knock,  knock 
again  and  then  go  in. 

Unannounced  Dan  Blair  opened  the  door  of 
the  dressing-room  of  the  actress.  Miss  Lane's 
dressing-rooms  were  worth  displaying  to  her  in- 
timate friends.  They  were  done  with  great  taste 
in  coral  tint.  She  might  have  been  said  to  be  in 
a  coral  cave  under  the  sea,  as  far  as  young 
39 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

Blair  was  concerned.  As  he  came  in  he  felt  his 
ears  deaden,  and  the  smoke  of  cigarettes  grew 
so  thick  that  he  looked  as  through  a  veil.  The 
dancer  was  standing  in  the  center  of  the  room, 
one  hand  on  her  hip,  and  in  the  other  hand  a 
cigarette.  Her  short  skirt  stood  out  around  her 
like  a  bell,  and  over  the  bell  fell  a  rain  of  pinkish 
coral  strands.  She  wore  a  thin  silk  slip,  from 
which  her  neck  and  arms  came  shining  out,  and 
her  woman  knelt  at  her  feet  strapping  on  a  little 
coral  shoe. 

Blair  shut  the  door  behind  him,  and  began  to 
realize  how  rude,  how  impertinent  his  entrance 
would  be  considered.  But  he  came  boldly  for- 
ward and  would  have  introduced  himself  as  "Dan 
Blair  from  Blairtown,"  but  Miss  Lane,  who 
stared  at  the  entrance  through  the  smoke,  burst 
into  a  laugh  so  bright,  so  delightful,  that  he 
was  carried  high  up  on  the  coral  strands  to  the 
very  beach.  She  crossed  her  white  arms  over 
her  breast  and  leaned  forward,  as  a  saleswoman 
might  lean  forward  over  a  counter,  and  with 
40 


IN   THE    CORAL   ROOM 

her  beautifully  trained  voice,  all  sweetly  she 
asked  him : 

"Hello,  little  boy,  what  will  you  take?" 

Blair  giggled,  quick  to  catch  her  meaning, 
and  answered :  "Oh,  chocolate,  I  guess !" 

And  Letty  Lane  laughed,  put  out  her  white 
hand,  the  one  without  the  cigarette,  and  said: 
"Haven't  got  that  brand  on  board — so  sorry! 
Will  a  cocktail  do  ?  All  sorts  in  bottles.  Higgins, 
fix  Mr.  Blair  a  Martini." 

As  the  dresser  rose  from  her  stooping  posi- 
tion, the  rest  of  Letty  Lane's  dressing-room  un- 
folded out  of  the  mist  and  smoke.  On  a  sofa 
covered  with  lace  pillows  Blair  saw  a  man  sitting, 
smoking  as  well.  He  was  tall  and  had  a  dark 
mustache.  It  was  Prince  Poniotowsky,  whom' 
Dan  had  already  met  at  the  Galorey  shoot. 

"Prince  Poniotowsky,"  Miss  Lane  presented 
him,  "Mr.  Blair,  of  Blairtown,  Montana.  Say, 
Frederick,  give  me  my  cap,  will  you?  It  is  over 
by  your  side.  I've  got  to  hustle." 

The  man,  without  moving,  picked  up  a  small 
41 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

red  cap  with  a  single  plume,  from  the  sofa  at  his 
side.  In  another  second  Letty  Lane  had  placed 
it  on  her  head  of  yellow  hair,  real  yellow  hair 
and  not  a  doubt  of  it,  like  sunshine — not  the 
color  one  gets  from  inside  bottles.  Her  arms, 
her  hands  flashed  with  rings,  priceless  flashes, 
and  the  little  spears  pricked  Dan  like  sharp 
needles. 

"It's  the  nicest  ever !"  she  was  saying.  *'How 
on  earth  did  you  get  in  here,  though?  Have 
you  bought  the  Gaiety  Theater?  I'm  the  most 
exclusive  girl  on  the  stage.  Who  let  you  in?" 
Her  accent  was  English,  and  even  that  put 
her  from  him.  As  he  looked  at  her  he  couldn't 
understand  how  he  had  ever  recognized  her.  If 
he  had  waited  for  another  act  he  wouldn't  have 
believed  the  likeness  real.  The  girl  he  remem- 
bered had  both  softened  and  hardened ;  the  round 
features  were  gone,  but  all  the  angles  were  gone 
as  well.  Her  eyes  were  as  gray  as  the  seas ;  she 
was  painted  and  her  lids  were  darkened.  Seen 
close,  she  was  not  so  divine  as  on  the  stage, 
4,2 


IN    THE    CORAL   ROOM 

but  there  was  still  a  more  thrilling  charm  about 
the  fact  that  she  was  real. 

"To  think  of  any  one  from  Montana  being 
here  to-night!  Staying  very  long,  Mr.  Blair?" 
Between  each  sentence  she  directed  Higgins,  who 
was  getting  her  into  her  bodice.  "And  how  do 
you  like  Mandalay?  Isn't  it  great?" 

She  addressed  herself  to  Dan,  but  she  smiled 
en  both  the  men  with  extreme  brilliance. 

"You  bet  your  life,"  he  responded.  «I  should 
think  it  was  great." 

Poniotowsky  rose  indolently.  He  had  not 
looked  toward  the  new-comer,  but  had,  on  the 
other  hand,  followed  every  detail  of  Miss  Lane's 
dressing. 

"Better  take  your  scarf,  Letty.  Hand  it  to 
Miss  Lane,"  he  directed  Higgins.  "It  is  so 
damned  drafty  in  these  beastly  wings." 

He  drew  his  watch  out,  gathered  up  his  long 
coat,  flung  it  over  his  arm  and  picked  up  his 
opera  hat  which  lay  folded  on  Letty  Lane's 
dressing-table. 

43 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

The  call  page  for  the  third  time  summoned 
"Miss  La — ne,  Miss  La — ane,"  and  she  took  the 
scarf  Higgins  handed  her  and  ran  it  through 
her  hands,  still  beaming  on  Dan. 

"Come  in  to  see  me  at  the  Savoy  on  any  day 
at  two-thirty  except  on  matinee  days." 

"Put  on  your  scarf."  Poniotowsky,  taking 
it  from  her  hands,  laid  it  across  her  white  shoul- 
ders, and  she  passed  out  between  the  two  men, 
light  as  a  bird,  smiling,  nodding,  followed  by  the 
prince  and  the  boy  from  Montana.  The  crowds 
began  to  fill  the  lately  empty  wings — dancers, 
chorus  girls  with  their  rustling  gowns.  Letty 
Lane  said  to  Dan : 

"Guess  you'll  like  my  solo  in  this  act  all 
right — it's  the  best  thing  in  Mandalay.  Now  go 
along,  and  clap  me  hard." 

It  gave  him  a  new  pleasure,  for  she  had 
spoken  to  him  in  real  American  fashion  with  the 
swift  mimicry  that  showed  her  talent.  Dan  went 
slowly  back  to  his  party.  As  he  took  his  seat 
by  the  duchess  she  said  to  him : 
44 


IN    THE    CORAL    ROOM 

"You  went  out  to  see  Letty  Lane.  Do  you 
know  her?" 

"Know  her!"  And  as  Dan  answered,  the 
sound  of  his  own  voice  was  queer  to  him,  and  his 
face  flushed  hotly.  "Lord,  yes.  She  used  to  be 
in  the  drug  store  in  Blairtown.  Sold  soda-wa- 
ter to  me  when  we  were  both  kids.  Whoever 
would  have  thought  that  she  had  that  in  her !" 
He  nodded  toward  the  stage,  for  Letty  Lane  had 
come  on.  "She  sang  in  our  church,  too,  but  not 
for  long." 

"Who  was  with  her  in  her  dressing-room?" 
the  duchess  asked.  Blair  didn't  answer.  He 
was  looking  at  Letty  Lane.  She  had  come  to 
dance  for  the  rajah  and  in  her  arms  she  held 
four  white  doves;  each  dove  had  a  coral  thread 
around  its  throat.  It  was  a  number  that  made 
her  famous,  The  Dove  Song.  Set  free,  the 
birds  flew  about  her,  circling  her  blond  head,  sur- 
mounted by  the  small  coral-colored  cap.  The 
doves  settled  on  her  shoulders,  pecked  at  her 
lips. 

45 


THE    GIRL    FROM   HIS    TOWN 

"Was  it  Poniotowsky?"  the  duchess  repeated. 

And  Dan  told  her  a  meaningless  lie.  "I  didn't 
meet  any  one  there."  And  with  satisfaction  the 
duchess  said: 

"Then  she  has  thrown  him  over,  too.  He 
was  the  latest  and  the  richest.  She  is  horribly 
extravagant.  No  man  is  rich  enough  for  her, 
they  say.  Poniotowsky  isn't  a  gold  mine." 

The  doves  had  flown  away  to  the  wings  and 
been  gathered  up  by  the  Indian  servants.  The 
actress  on  the  stage  began  her  Indian  cradle 
song.  She  came,  distinctly  turning  toward  the 
box  party.  She  had  never  sung  like  this  in 
London  before.  There  was  a  freshness  in  her 
voice,  a  quality  in  her  gesture,  a  pathos  and  a 
sweetness  that  delighted  her  audience.  They 
fairly  clamored  for  her,  waved  and  called  and 
recalled.  Dan  stood  motionless,  his  eyes  fastened 
on  her,  his  heart  rocked  by  the  song.  He  didn't 
want  any  one  to  speak  to  him.  He  wished  that 
none  of  them  would  breathe,  and  nearly  as  ab- 
sorbed as  was  he,  no  one  did  speak. 
46 


CHAPTER  V 

AT    THE    CAELTON 

THERE  are  certain  natures  to  whom  each 
appearance  of  evil,  each  form  of  delin- 
quency is  a  fresh  surprise.  They  are  born 
simple,  in  the  sweet  sense  of  the  word,  and  they 
go  down  to  old  age  never  of  the  world,  although 
in  a  sense  worldly.  If  Dan  Blair's  eyes  were 
somewhat  opened  at  twenty-two,  he  had  yet  the 
bloom  on  his  soul.  He  was  no  fool,  but  his 
ideals  stood  up  each  on  its  pedestal  and  ready  to 
appear  one  by  one  to  him  as  the  scenes  of  his 
life  shifted  and  the  different  curtains  rose.  He 
had  been  trained  in  finance  from  his  boyhood 
and  he  was  a  born  financier.  Money  was  his 
natural  element;  he  could  go  far  in  it.  But 
woman!  He  was  one  of  those  manly  crea- 
tures— a  knight — to  whom  each  woman  is  a 

m 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

sacred  thing:  a  dove,  a  crystal-clear  soul,  made 
to  cherish  and  to  protect,  made  to  be  spoiled. 
And  in  Dan  were  all  the  qualities  that  go  to 
make  up  the  unselfish,  tender,  foolish,  and  often 
unhappy  American  husband.  These  were  some 
of  the  other  things  he  had  inherited  from  his 
father.  Blair,  senior,  had  married  his  first  love, 
and  whereas  his  boy  had  been  trained  to  know 
money  and  its  value,  how  to  keep  it  and  spend  it, 
to  save  it  and  to  make  it,  he  had  been  taught 
nothing  at  all  about  woman.  He  had  never  been 
taught  to  distrust  women,  never  been  warned 
against  them;  he  had  been  taught  nothing  but 
his  father's  memory  of  his  mother,  and  the  re- 
sult was  that  he  worshiped  the  sex  and  wondered 
at  the  mystery. 

With  Gordon  Galorey  and  the  others  he 
had  ridden,  shot  better  than  they,  and  had 
played,  but  with  Lady  Galorey  and  the  Duchess 
of  Breakwater  he  was  nothing  but  a  child. 
As  far  as  his  hostess  was  concerned,  on  several 
occasions  she  had  put  to  him  certain  states 
48 


AT   THE    CARLTON 

of  affairs,  well,  touchingly.  Dan  had  been 
moved  by  the  stories  of  sore  need  among  the 
tenants,  had  been  impressed  by  the  necessity  of 
reforms  and  rebuildings  and  on  each  occasion 
had  given  his  hostess  a  check.  She  had  asked 
him  to  say  nothing  about  it  to  Gordon,  and  he 
had  kept  his  silence.  Dan  liked  Lady  Galorey 
extremely:  she  was  jolly,  witty  and  friendly. 
She  treated  him  as  a  member  of  the  family  and 
made  no  demands  on  him,  save  the  ones  men- 
tioned. 

In  the  time  that  he  had  come  to  know  the 
Duchess  of  Breakwater  she,  on  her  part,  had 
filled  him  full  of  other  confidences.  Into  his 
young  ears  she  poured  the  story  of  her  disap- 
pointment, her  disjointed  life,  from  her  worldly 
girlhood  to  her  disillusion  in  marriage.  She 
was  beautiful  when  she  talked  and  more  lovely 
when  she  wept.  Dan  thought  himself  in  love 
with  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater.  His  conversa- 
tions with  her  had  brought  him  to  this  conclu- 
sion. They  had  motored  from  Osdene  Park  to- 
49 


THE    GIRL   FROM    HIS    TOWN 

gether,  and  he  had  been  extremely  taken  with 
the  pleasure  of  it,  and  with  the  fact  of  their 
real  companionship.  Two  or  three  times  the 
words  had  been  on  his  lips,  which  were  fated  not 
to  be  spoken  then,  however,  and  Dan  reached 
the  Gaiety  still  unfettered,  his  duchess  by  his 
side.  And  then  the  orchestra  had  begun  to  play 
Mandalay,  the  curtain  had  gone  up  and  Letty 
Lane  had  come  out  on  the  boards.  But  her 
apparition  did  not  strike  off  his  chains  immedi- 
ately, nor  did  he  renounce  his  plan  to  tell  the 
duchess  the  very  next  day  that  he  loved  her. 

When  with  sparkling  eyes  Lady  Galorey 
raved  about  Mandalay,  Dan  listened  with  eager- 
ness. Everybody  seemed  to  know  all  about 
Letty  Lane,  but  he  alone  knew  from  what  town 
she  had  come ! 

They  went  for  supper  at  the  Carlton  after 
the  theater. 

"Letty,"  Lady  Galorey  said,  "tells  it  herself 
how  the  impresario  heard  her  sing  in  some 
country  church — picked  her  up  then  and  there 
50 


AT    THE    CARLTON 

and  brought  her  over  here,  and  they  say  she 
married  him." 

Dan  Blair  could  have  told  them  how  she  had 
sung  in  that  little  church  that  day.  Dan  was 
eating  his  caviare  sandwich.  "Her  name  then 
was  Sally  Towney,"  he  murmured.  How  little 
he  had  guessed  that  she  was  singing  herself 
right  out  of  that  church  and  into  the  London 
Gaiety  Theater!  Anyway,  she  had  made  him 
"sit  up!"  It  was  a  far  cry  from  Montana  to 
the  London  Gaiety.  And  so  she  married  the 
greasy  Jew  who  had  discovered  her ! 

Dan  glanced  over  at  the  Duchess  of  Break- 
water. She  was  looking  well,  exquisitely  high 
bred,  and  she  impressed  him.  She  leaned  slightly 
over  to  him,  laughing.  He  had  hardly  dared  to 
meet  her  eyes  that  day,  fearing  that  she  might 
read  his  secret.  She  had  told  him  that  in  her 
own  right  she  was  a  countess — the  Countess  of 
Stainer.  Titles  didn't  cut  any  ice  with  him.  At 
any  rate,  she  would  be  able  to  "buy  back  the 
old  farm" — that  is  the  way  Dan  put  it.  She 
51 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

had  told  him  of  the  beautiful  old  Stainer  Court, 
mortgaged  and  hung  up  with  debts,  as  deep  in 
ruins  as  the  ivy  was  thick  on  the  walls. 

As  Dan  looked  over  at  the  duchess  he  saw  the 
other  people  staring  and  looking  about  at  a  table 
near.  It  was  spread  a  little  to  their  left  for 
four  people,  a  great  bouquet  of  orchids  in  the 
center. 

"There,"  Galorey  said,  "there's  Letty  Lane." 
And  the  singer  came  in,  followed  by  three 
men,  the  first  of  them  the  Prince  Poniotowsky, 
indolent,  bored,  haughty,  his  eye-glass  dangling. 
Miss  Lane  was  dressed  in  black,  a  superb  cos- 
tume of  faultless  cut,  and  it  enfolded  her  like  a 
shadow;  as  a  shadow  might  enfold  a  specter, 
for  the  dancer  was  as  pale  as  the  dead.  She 
had  neither  painted  nor  rouged,  she  had  evi- 
dently employed  no  coquetry  to  disguise  her 
fag;  rather  she  seemed  to  be  on  the  verge  of  a 
serious  illness,  and  presented  a  striking  con- 
trast to  the  brilliant  creature,  who  had  shone  be- 
fore their  eyes  not  an  hour  before.  Her  dress  Fas 
52 


AT   THE    CARLTON 

a  challenge  to  the  more  gay  and  delicate  affairs 
the  other  women  in  the  restaurant  wore.  The 
gown  came  severely  up  to  her  chin.  Its  high 
collar  closed  around  with  a  pearl  necklace ;  from 
her  ears  fell  pearls,  long,  creamy  and  priceless. 
She  wore  a  great  feathered  hat,  which,  drooping, 
almost  hid  her  small,  pale  face  and  her  golden 
hair.  She  drew  off  her  gloves  as  she  came  in 
and  her  white,  jeweled  hands  flashed.  She  looked 
infinitely  tired  and  extremely  bored.  As  soon 
as  she  took  her  seat  at  the  table  intended  for  her 
party,  Poniotowsky  poured  her  out  a  glass  of 
champagne,  which  she  drank  off  as  though  it 
were  water. 

"Gad,"  Lord  Galorey  said,  "she  is  a  stunner ! 
What  a  figure,  and  what  a  head,  and  what  dar- 
ing to  dress  like  that !" 

"She  knows  how  to  make  herself  conspicuous," 
said  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater. 

"She  looks  extremely  ill,"  said  Lady  Galorey. 
"The  pace  she  goes  will  do  her  up  in  a  year  or 
two." 

53 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

Dan  Blair  had  his  back  to  her,  and  when  they 
rose  to  leave  he  was  the  last  to  pass  out.  Letty 
Lane  saw  him,  and  a  light  broke  over  her  pallid 
face.  She  nodded  and  smiled  and  shook  her  hand 
in  a  pretty  little  salute.  If  her  face  was  pale, 
her  lips  were  red,  and  her  smile  was  like  sun- 
light ;  and  at  her  recognition  a  wave  of  friendly 
fellowship  swept  over  the  young  man — a  sort 
of  loyal  kinship  to  her  which  he  hadn't  felt  for 
any  other  woman  there,  and  which  he  could  not 
have  explained.  In  warm  approval  of  the 
actress'  distinction,  he  said  softly  to  himself: 
"That's  all  right — she  makes  the  rest  of  them 
look  like  thirty  cents." 


54, 


CHAPTER  VI 

GALOBEY  SEEKS  ADVICE 

BLAIR  did  not  go  back  at  once  to  Osdene 
Park.  He  stopped  over  in  London  for  a 
few  days  to  see  Joshua  Ruggles,  and  so  re- 
marked for  the  first  time  the  difference  between 
the  speech  of  the  old  and  the  new  world.  Mr. 
Ruggles  spoke  broadly,  with  complete  disregard 
of  the  frills  and  adornments  of  the  King's  Eng- 
lish. He  spoke  United  States  of  the  pure,  broad, 
western  brand,  and  it  rang  out,  it  vibrated  and 
swelled  and  rolled,  and  as  Ruggles  didn't  care 
who  heard  him,  nothing  of  what  he  had  to  say 
was  lost. 

Old  Mr.  Blair  had  left  behind  him  a  comrade, 
and  as  far  as  advice  could  go  the  old  man  knew 
that  his  Dan  would  not  be  bankrupt. 

"Advice,"  Dan  Blair  senior  once  said  to  his 
55 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

boy,  "is  the  kind  of  thing  we  want  some  fellow 
to  give  us  when  we  ain't  going  to  do  the  thing 
we  ought  to  do,  or  are  a  little  ashamed  of  some- 
thing we  have  done.  It's  an  awful  good  way  to 
get  cured  of  asking  advice  just  to  do  what  the 
fellow  tells  you  to  at  once." 

During  Ruggles'  stay  in  London  the  young 
fellow  looked  to  it  that  Ruggles  saw  the  sights, 
and  the  two  did  the  principal  features  of  the  big 
town,  to  the  rich  enjoyment  of  the  Westerner. 
Dan  took  his  friend  every  night  to  the  play,  and 
on  the  fourth  evening  Ruggles  said:  "Let's  go 
to  the  circus  or  a  vawdeville,  Dan.  I  have 
learned  this  show  by  heart!"  They  had  been 
every  night  to  see  Mandalay. 

"Oh,  you  go  on  where  you  like,  Josh,"  the 
boy  answered.  "I'm  going  to  see  how  she  looks 
from  the  pit." 

Ruggles  was  not  a  Blairtown  man.     He  had 

come  from  farther  west,  and  had  never  heard 

anything  of  Sarah  Towney  or  Letty  Lane.    He 

applauded  the  actress  vigorously  at  the  Gaiety  at 

56 


GALOREY   SEEKS   ADVICE 

first,  and  after  the  third  night  slept  through 
most  of  the  performance.  When  he  waked  up 
he  tried  to  discover  what  attraction  Letty  Lane 
had  for  Dan.  For  the  young  man  never  left 
Ruggles'  side,  never  went  behind  the  scenes, 
though  he  seemed  absorbed,  as  a  man  usually  is 
absorbed  for  one  reason  only. 

In  response  to  a  telegram  from  Osdene  Park, 
Dan  motored  out  there  one  afternoon,  and  dur- 
ing his  absence  Ruggles  was  surprised  at  his 
hotel  by  a  call. 

"My  dear  Mr.  Ruggles,"  Lord  Galorey  said, 
for  he  it  was  the  page  boy  fetched  up,  "why 
don't  you  come  out  to  see  us?  All  friends  of  old 
Mr.  Blair's  are  welcome  at  Osdene." 

Ruggles  thanked  Galorey  and  said  he  was  not 
a  visiting  man,  that  he  only  had  a  short  time  in 
London,  and  was  going  to  Ireland  to  look  up 
"his  family  tree." 

"There   are  one  hundred  acres  of  trees  in 
Osdene,"  laughed  Galorey ;  "you  can  climb  them 
all."    And  Ruggles  replied : 
57 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

"I  guess  I  wouldn't  find  any  O'Shaughnessy 
Ruggles  at  the  top  of  any  of  'em,  my  lord.  The 
boy  has  gone  out  to  see  you  all  to-day." 

Galorey  nodded.  "That  is  just  why  I  toddled 
in  to  see  you !" 

Ruggles'  caller  had  been  shown  to  the  sitting- 
room,  where  he  and  Dan  hobnobbed  and  smoked 
during  the  Westerner's  visit.  There  was  a  pile 
of  papers  on  the  table,  in  one  corner  a  type- 
writer covered  by  a  black  cloth.  Galorey  took 
a  chair  and,  refusing  a  cigarette,  lit  his  pipe. 

"I  didn't  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting  you  in 
the  West  when  I  was  out  there  with  Blair.  I 
knew  Dan's  father  rather  well." 

Ruggles  responded:  "I  knew  him  rather  well 
too,  for  thirty  years.  If,"  he  went  on,  "Blair 
hadn't  known  you  pretty  well  he  wouldn't  have 
sent  the  boy  out  to  you  as  he  has  done.  He  was 
keen  on  every  trail.  I  might  say  that  he  had 
been  over  every  one  of  'era  like  a  hound  before 
he  set  the  boy  loose." 

Galorey  answered,  "Quite  so,"  gravely.  "I 
58 


GALOREY    SEEKS   ADVICE 

know  it.  I  knew  it  when  Dan  turned  up  at  Os- 
dene — "  Holding  his  pipe  bowl  in  the  palm  of 
his  slender  hand,  he  smoked  meditatively.  He 
hadn't  thought  about  things,  as  he  had  been  do- 
ing lately,  for  many  years.  His  sense  of  honor 
was  the  strongest  thing  in  Gordon  Galorey,  the 
only  thing  in  him,  perhaps,  that  had  been  left 
unsmirched  by  the  touch  of  the  world.  He  was 
unquestionably  a  gentleman. 

"Blair,  however,"  he  said,  "wasn't  as  keen  on 
this  scent  as  you'd  expect.  His  intuition  was 
wrong." 

Ruggles  raised  his  eyebrows  slightly. 

"I  mean  to  say,"  Lord  Galorey  went  on,  "that 
he  knew  me  in  the  West  when  I  had  cut  loose  for 
a  few  blessed  months  from  just  these  things  into 
which  he  has  sent  his  boy — from  what,  if  I  had 
a  son,  God  knows  I'd  throw  him  as  far  as  I 
could." 

"Blair  wanted  Dan  to  see  the  world." 

"Of  course,  that  is  right  enough.  We  all 
have  to  see  it,  I  fancy,  but  this  boy  isn't  ready 
to  look  at  it." 

59 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

"He  is  twenty-two,"  Ruggles  returned. 
"When  I  was  his  age  I  was  supporting  four 
people." 

Galorey  went  on:  "Osdene  Park  at  present 
isn't  the  window  for  Blair's  xboy  to  see  life 
through,  and  that  is  what  I  have  come  up  to 
London  to  talk  to  you  about,  Mr.  Ruggles.  I 
should  like  to  have  you  take  him  away." 

"What's  Dan  been  up  to  down  there?" 

"Nothing  as  yet,  but  he  is  in  the  pocket  of  a 
woman — he  is  in  a  nest  of  women." 

Ruggles'  broad  face  had  not  altered  its  ex- 
pression of  quiet  expectation. 

"There's  a  lot  of  'em  down  there?"  he  asked. 

"There  are  two,"  Galorey  said  briefly,  "and 
one  of  them  is  my  wife." 

Ruggles  turned  his  cigarette  between  his 
great  fingers.  He  was  a  slow  thinker.  He  had 
none  of  old  Blair's  keenness,  but  he  had  other 
qualities.  Galorey  saw  that  he  had  not  been 
quite  understood,  and  he  waited  and  then  said : 

"Lady  Galorey  is  like  the  rest  of  modern 
60 


GALOREY   SEEKS   ADVICE 

wives,  and  I  am  like  a  lot  of  modern  husbands. 
We  each  go  our  own  way.  My  way  is  a  worth- 
less one,  God  knows  I  don't  stand  up  for  it,  but 
it  is  not  my  wife's  way  in  any  sense  of  the  word." 

"Does  she  want  Dan  to  go  along  on  her 
road?"  Ruggles  asked.  "And  how  far?" 

"We  are  financially  strapped  just  now,"  said 
Galorey  calmly,  "and  she  has  got  money  from 
the  boy."  He  didn't  remove  his  pipe  from  his 
mouth ;  still  holding  it  between  his  teeth  he  put 
his  hand  in  his  pocket,  took  out  his  wallet,  drew 
forth  four  checks  and  laid  them  down  before 
Ruggles.  "It  is  quite  a  sum,"  Galorey  noted, 
"sufficient  to  do  a  lot  to  Osdene  Park  in  the  way 
of  needed  repairs."  Ruggles  had  never  seen  a 
smile  such  as  curved  his  companion's  lips.  "But 
Osdene  Park  will  have  to  be  repaired  by  money 
from  some  other  source." 

Ruggles  wondered  how  the  husband  had  got 
hold  of  the  checks,  but  he  didn't  ask  and  he  did 
not  look  at  the  papers. 

"When  Dan  came  to  the  Park,"  said  Galorey, 
61 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

"I  stopped  bridge  playing,  but  this  more  than 
takes  its  place!" 

Ruggles'  big  hand  went  slowly  toward  the 
checks ;  he  touched  them  with  his  fingers  and 
said :  "Is  Dan  in  love  with  your  wife  ?" 

And  Lord  Galorey  laughed  and  said:  "Lord 
no,  my  dear  man,  not  even  that !  It  is  pure  good 
nature  on  his  part — mere  prodigality.  Edith 
appealed  to  him,  that's  all." 

Relief  crossed  Ruggles'  face.  He  understood 
in  a  flash  the  worldly  woman's  appeal  to  the  rich 
young  man  and  believed  the  story  the  husband 
told  him. 

"Have  you  spoken  to  the  boy  ?" 

"My  dear  chap,  I  have  spoken  to  him  about 
nothing.  I  preferred  to  come  to  you." 

"You  said,"  Ruggles  continued,  "there  were 
two  ladies  down  to  your  place." 

Galorey  had  refilled  his  pipe  and  held  it  as 
before  in  the  palm  of  his  hand. 

"I  can  look  after  the  affairs  of  my  wife,  and 
this  shan't  happen  again,  I  promise  you — not  at 
62 


GALOREY    SEEKS   ADVICE 

Osdene,  but  I'm  afraid  I  can  not  do  much  in  the 
other  case.  The  Duchess  of  Breakwater  has 
been  at  Osdene  for  nearly  three  weeks,  and  Dan 
is  in  love  with  her." 

Ruggles  put  the  four  checks  one  on  top  of  the 
other. 

"Is  the  lady  a  widow?" 

"Unfortunately,  yes." 

"So  that's  the  nest  Dan  has  got  into  at  Os- 
dene," the  Westerner  said.  And  Galorey  an- 
swered :  "That  is  the  nest." 

"And  he  has  gone  out  there  to-day — got  a 
wire  this  morning." 

"The  duchess  has  been  in  an  awful  funk," 
said  Galorey,  "because  Dan's  been  stopping  in 
London  so  long.  She  sent  him  a  message,  and 
as  soon  as  Dan  wired  back  that  he  was  coming 
to  the  Park,  I  decided  to  come  here  and  see  you." 

Ruggles  ruminated:  "Has  the  duchess  com- 
plications financially  ?" 

"Ra-ther !"  the  other  answered. 

And  Ruggles  turned  his  broad,  honest  face 
63 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

full  on  Galorey:  "Do  you  think  she  could  be 
bought  off?" 

Galorey  took  his  pipe  out  of  his  mouth. 

"It  depends  on  how  far  Dan  has  gone  on  with 
her.  To  be  frank  with  you,  Mr.  Ruggles,  it  is 
a  case  of  emotion  on  the  part  of  the  woman. 
She  is  really  in  love  with  Dan.  Gad !"  exclaimed 
the  nobleman.  "I  have  been  on  the  point  of  turn- 
ing the  whole  brood  out  of  doors  these  last  days. 
It  was  like  imprisoning  a  mountain  breeze  in  a 
charnel  house — a  woman  with  her  scars  and  her 
experience  and  that  boy — I  don't  know  where 
you've  kept  him,  or  how  you  kept  him  as  he  is, 
but  he  is  as  clear  as  water.  I  have  talked  to  him 
and  I  know." 

Nothing  in  Ruggles*  expression  had  changed 
until  now.  His  eyes  glowed. 

"Dan's  all  right,"  he  said  softly.  "Don't 
you  worry !  He's  all  right.  I  guess  his  father 
knew  what  he  was  doing,  and  I'll  bet  the  whole 
thing  was  just  what  he  sent  him  over  here  for ! 
Old  Dan  Blair  wasn't  worth  a  copper  when  the 
64 


GALOREY   SEEKS   ADVICE 

boy  was  born,  and  jet  he  had  ideas  about  every- 
thing and  he  seemed  to  know  more  in  that  old 
gray  head  of  his  than  a  whole  library  of  books. 
Dan's  all  right." 

"My  dear  man,"  said  the  nobleman,  "that  is 
just  where  you  Americans  are  wrong.  You  com- 
fort yourself  with  your  eternal  'Dan's  all  right,' 
and  you  won't  see  the  truth.  You  won't  breathe 
the  word  'scandal'  and  yet  you  are  thick  enough 
in  them,  God  knows.  You  won't  admit  them, 
but  they  are  there.  Now  be  honest  and  look  at 
the  truth,  will  you?  You  are  a  man  of  common 
sense.  Dan  Blair  is  not  all  right.  He  is  in  an 
infernally  dangerous  position.  The  Duchess  of 
Breakwater  will  marry  him.  It  is  what  she  has 
wanted  to  do  for  years,  but  she  has  not  found 
a  man  rich  enough,  and  she  will  marry  this  boy 
offhand." 

"Well,"  said  the  Westerner  slowly,  "if  he 
loves  her  and  if  he  marries  her — " 

"Marries  her!"  exclaimed  the  nobleman. 
"There  you  are  again !  Do  you  think  marriage 
65 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

makes  it  any  better?  Why,  if  she  went  off  to  the 
Continent  with  him  for  six  weeks  and  then  set 
him  free,  that  would  be  preferable  to  marrying 
her.  My  dear  man,"  he  said,  leaning  over  the 
table  where  Ruggles  sat,  "if  I  had  a  boy  I  would 
rather  have  him  marry  Letty  Lane  of  the  Gai- 
ety. Now  you  know  what  I  mean." 

Ruggles'  face,  which  had  hardened,  relaxed. 

"I  have  seen  that  lady,"  he  exclaimed  with 
satisfaction ;  "I  have  seen  her  several  times." 

Galorey  sank  back  into  his  chair  and  neither 
man  spoke  for  a  few  seconds.  Turning  it  all 
over  in  his  slow  mind,  Ruggles  remembered 
Dan's  absorption  in  the  last  few  days.  "So  there 
are  three  women  in  the  nest,"  he  concluded 
thoughtfully,  and  Gordon  Galorey  repeated: 

"No,  not  three.    What  do  you  mean?" 

"Your  wife" — Ruggles  held  up  one  finger 
and  Galorey  interrupted  him  to  murmur : 

"I'll  take  care  of  Edith." 

"The  Duchess  of  Breakwater  you  think  won't 
talk  of  money?" 

66 


GALOREY    SEEKS    ADVICE 

"No,  don't  count  on  it.  She  is  aiming  at  ten 
million  pounds." 

Ruggles  was  holding  up  the  second  finger. 

"Well,  I  guess  Dan  has  gone  out  to  take  care 
of  Tier  to-day." 

Dan  and  Ruggles  had  seen  Mandalay  from  a 
box,  from  the  pit  and  from  the  stalls.  On  the 
table  lay  a  book  of  the  opera.  While  talking 
with  Galorey,  Ruggles  had  unconsciously  ar- 
ranged the  checks  on  top  of  the  libretto  of  Man- 
dalay. 

"Til  take  care  of  Miss  Lane,"  Ruggles  said 
at  length. 

His  lordship  echoed,  "Miss  Lane?"  and  looked 
up  in  surprise.  "What  Miss  Lane,  for  God's 
sake?" 

"Miss  Letty  Lane  at  the  Gaiety,"  Ruggles 
answered. 

"Why,  she  isn't  in  the  question,  my  dear 
man." 

"You  put  her  there  just  now  yourself." 

"Bosh!"  Galorey  exclaimed  impatiently,  "I 
67 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

spoke  of  her  as  being  the  limit,  the  last  thing  on 
the  line." 

"No,"  corrected  the  other,  "you  put  the 
Duchess  of  Breakwater  as  the  limit." 

Galorey  smiled  frankly.  "You  are  right,  my 
dear  chap,"  he  accepted,  "and  I  stand  by  it." 

A  page  boy  knocked  at  the  door  and  came  in 
holding  out  on  a  salver  a  card  for  Mr.  Ruggles, 
and  at  the  interruption  Galorey  rose  and  in- 
vited Ruggles  to  go  out  with  him  that  night  to 
Osdene.  "Lady  Galorey  will  be  delighted." 

But  Ruggles  shook  his  head.  "The  boy  is 
coming  back  here  to-night,"  and  Galorey 
laughed. 

"Don't  you  believe  it!  You  don't  know  how 
deep  in  he  is.  You  don't  know  the  Duchess  of 
Breakwater.  Once  he  is  with  her — " 

At  the  same  time  that  the  page  boy  handed 
Mr.  Ruggles  the  card  of  the  caller,  he  gave  him 
as  well  a  small  envelope,  which  contained  box 
tickets  for  the  Gaiety.  Ruggles  examined  it. 

"I  have  got  some  writing  to  do,"  he  told  Ga- 


GALOREY    SEEKS    ADVICE 

lorey,  "and  I'm  going  to  see  a  show  to-night, 
and  I  think  I'll  just  stay  here  and  watch  my 
hole." 

As  soon  as  Galorey  had  left  the  Carlton,  Mr. 
Ruggles  despatched  his  letters  and  his  visitor, 
made  a  very  careful  toilet,  and  after  waiting 
until  past  eight  o'clock  for  Dan  to  return  to 
dinner,  dined  alone  on  roast  beef  and  a  tart,  and 
with  perfect  digestion,  if  somewhat  thoughtful 
mind,  left  the  hotel  and  walked  down  the  dim 
street  to  the  brilliant  Strand,  and  on  foot  to  the 
Gaiety. 


69 


CHAPTER  VII 

AT  THE    STAGE   ENTRANCE 

RUGGLES,  from  his  stall,  for  the  fourth 
time  saw  the  curtain  go  up  on  Mandalay 
and  heard  the  temple  bells  ring.  One  of  the 
stage  boxes  was  not  occupied  until  after  the  first 
act  and  then  the  son  of  his  friend  came  in  alone 
and  sat  far  back  out  of  sight  of  any  eyes  but 
the  keenest,  and  those  eyes  were  Ruggles'.  Letty 
Lane,  delicious,  fantastic,  languishing,  sang 
to  Dan ;  that  was  evident  to  Ruggles.  He  was 
a  large  man  and  filled  his  stall  comfortably.  He 
sat  through  the  performance  peacefully,  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  his  big  face  thoughtful, 
his  shirt  front  ruffled.  To  look  at  him,  one  must 
have  wondered  why  he  had  come  to  Mandalay. 
He  scarcely  lost  any  of  the  threads  of  his  own  re- 
flections, though  when  Miss  Lane,  in  response  to 
70 


AT    THE    STAGE    ENTRANCE 

a  call  from  the  house,  sang  her  cradle  song  three 
times,  he  seemed  moved.  The  tones  of  her  pure 
voice,  the  cradling  in  her  arms  of  an  imaginary 
child,  her  apparent  dovelike  purity,  her  grace 
and  sweetness,  and  her  cooing,  gentle  tone,  to 
judge  by  the  softening  of  the  Westerner's  face, 
touched  very  much  the  big  fellow  who  listened 
like  a  child.  At  the  end  he  drew  his  handker- 
chief slowly  across  his  eyes,  but  the  tears,  or 
rather  moisture,  that  rose  there  was  not  all  due 
to  Miss  Lane's  song,  for  Ruggles  was  extremely 
warm. 

He  could  see  that  in  his  box  the  boy  sat  trans- 
fixed and  absorbed.  Dan  went  out  in  the  second 
entr'acte  and  was  absent  when  the  curtain  went 
down.  Ruggles,  as  well,  left  before  the  per- 
formance was  over,  to  make  his  way  outside  the 
theater  to  the  stage  exit,  where  there  was  already 
gathered  a  little  group,  looked  after  by  a  couple 
of  policemen.  Close  to  the  curb  a  gleaming 
motor  waited,  the  footman  at  its  door.  Ruggles 
buttoned  his  coat  up  to  his  chin  and  took  his 
71 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

place  close  to  the  door,  over  which  the  electric 
light  showed  the  words  "Stage  Entrance."  A 
poor  woman  elbowed  him,  her  shabby  hat 
adorned  by  a  scraggly  plume,  a  gray  shawl 
wrapped  round  her  shoulders.  A  girl  or  two, 
who  might  have  been  flower  sellers  in  Piccadilly 
in  the  daytime,  a  couple  of  toughs,  a  handful  of 
other  vagrants  smelling  of  gin,  a  decent  man  in 
working  clothes,  a  child  in  his  arms,  formed  the 
human  hedge  Letty  Lane  was  to  pass  between — 
a  singular  group  of  people  to  spend  an  hour 
hanging  about  the  streets  at  the  exit  of  a  theater 
well  toward  midnight.  So  the  naive  Ruggles 
thought,  and  better  understood  the  appearance 
of  the  young  fellows  in  evening  clothes  who 
hovered  on  the  extreme  edge  of  the  little  crowd. 
Dan,  however,  was  not  of  these. 

"Look  sharp,  Cissy,"  the  workingman  spoke 
to  his  child,  holding  her  well  up.  "When  she 
comes  hout  she'll  pass  close  to  yer,  and  you  sing 
hout,  'God  bless  yer.»  " 

"Yes,  Dad,  I  will,"  shrilled  the  child. 
72 


AT   THE    STAGE   ENTRANCE 

The  woman  in  the  gray  shawl  drew  it  close 
about  her.  "Aw  she's  a  true  lidy,  all  right, 
ain't  she?  I  expect  you've  had  some  kindness 
off  her  as  well?" 

The  man  nodded  over  the  child's  shoulder. 
"Used  to  be  a  scene  shifter,  and  Miss  Lane 
found  out  about  my  little  girl  last  year — not  this 
lass,  not  Cissy,  Cissy's  sister — and  she  sent  'er  to 
a  place  where  it  costs  the  eyes  out  of  yer  head. 
She's  gettin'  well  fast,  and  we,  none  of  us,  has 
seen  her  or  spoken  to  Miss  Lane.  She  doesn't 
know  our  names." 

And  the  woman  answered :  "She  does  a  lot  like 
that.  She's  got  a  heart  bigger'n  her  little 
body." 

And  a  big  boy  in  the  front  row  said  back  to 
the  others :  "Well,  she  makes  a  mint  of  money." 

And  the  woman  who  had  spoken  before  said : 
"She  gives  it  nearly  all  to  the  poor." 

Ruggles  was  evidently  on  the  poor  side  of  the 
waiting  crowd;  the  handful  of  riffraff  around 
him  with  its  stench  of  dirt  and  gin.  A  better 
73 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

looking  set  collected  opposite  and  there  was  the 
gleam  of  white  shirt  fronts. 

"Now,  there  she  comes,"  the  father  saw  her 
first.  "Sing  out,  Cissy." 

The  door  opened  and  a  figure  quickly  floated 
from  it,  like  a  white  rose  blown  out  into  the 
foggy  darkness.  It  floated  down  the  few  steps 
to  the  street  between  the  double  row  of  spec- 
tators. A  white  cloak  entirely  covered  the 
actress.  Her  head  was  hidden  by  a  white  scarf, 
and  she  almost  ran  the  short  gantlet  to  her 
motor,  between  the  cries  of  "God  bless  you!" 
—"Three  cheers  for  Letty  Lane"— "God 
bless  you,  lady!"  She  didn't  speak  or  heed, 
however,  or  turn  her  head,  but  held  her 
scarf  against  her  face,  and  the  man  who  slowly 
lounged  behind  her  to  the  car,  and  put  her  in 
and  got  in  after  her,  was  not  the  man  Joshua 
Ruggles  had  waited  there  to  see.  He  hung  about 
until  the  footman  had  sprung  up  and  the  car 
moved  softly  away,  the  stage  entrance  door  shut, 
then  he  followed  along  with  the  crowd,  with  the 
74, 


AT   THE    STAGE   ENTRANCE 

few  faithful  ones  who  had  waited  an  hour  in  the 
cold  mist  to  cry  out  their  applause,  not  to  a 
singer  in  Mandalay  but  to  a  woman's  heart. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


THE  Duchess  of  Breakwater  was  not  sure 
how  close  Dan  Blair's  thoughts  were  to 
marriage,  but  the  boy  from  Montana  was  the 
easiest  prey  that  had  come  across  the  beautiful 
and  unscrupulous  woman's  range.  He  had  told 
her  that  he  stayed  on  up  in  London  to  see  a  man 
from  home,  and  when  after  four  days  he  still  lin- 
gered in  town,  she  found  his  absence  unbearable, 
.and  sent  him  a  wire  so  worded  that  if  he  had  a 
spark  of  interest  in  her  he  must  immediately  re- 
turn to  the  Park.  She  had  never  been  more  love- 
ly than  when  Dan  found  her  waiting  for  him. 

She  had  ordered  tea  in  her  sitting-room.    She 

told  him  that  he  looked  frightfully  seedy,  asked 

him  what  he  had  been  doing  and  why  he  had 

stopped  so  long  away,  and  Blair  told  her  that 

76 


DAN'S    SIMPLICITY 

old  Ruggles,  his  father's  friend,  had  run  over 
to  see  him  with  a  lot  of  papers  for  Dan  to  read 
and  sign  and  closed  with  a  smile,  telling  her  that 
he  guessed  she  "didn't  know  much  about  busi- 
ness." 

"I  only  know  the  horrid  things  of  business — 
debts,  and  loans,  and  bills,  and  fussing." 

"Those  things  are  not  business,"  Dan  an- 
swered wisely;  "they  are  just  common  or  gar- 
den carelessness." 

She  asked  him  why  he  had  not  brought  Rug- 
gles out  to  Osdene,  and  he  told  her  he  couldn't 
have  done  a  stroke  of  work  with  the  old  boy 
down  here  at  the  Park. 

Stirring  his  tea,  he  appreciated  the  duchess. 
The  agreeable  picture  she  made  impressed  him 
mightily. 

"Do  you  know,*'  he  asked  suddenly,  "what 
you  make  me  think  of?" 

And  she  responded  softly :  "No,  dear." 

"A  box  of  candy.    This  room  with  its  stuffed! 
walls,  and  you  in  it  are  good  enough — " 
77 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

"To  eat?"  she  laughed  aloud.  "Oh,  you  per- 
fectly killing  creature,  what  an  idea !" 

And  as  he  met  her  eyes  with  his  clear  ones, 
with  a  simplicity  she  could  never  hope  to  reach, 
he  put  his  tea-cup  down;  and  as  he  did  so  the 
duchess  observed  his  strong  hands,  their  vigor, 
well-kept  and  muscular,  but  not  the  dandified 
hands  of  the  man  who  goes  often  to  the  mani- 
cure. 

"If  it  hadn't  been  for  one  thing,"  the  boy 
went  on,  "I  would  have  thought  of  nothing  else 
but  you,  every  minute  I've  been  away." 

"Mr.  Ruggles  ?"  suggested  the  duchess. 

"No,  the  Gaiety  girl,  Letty  Lane.  You  know 
I  told  you  in  the  box  that  she  was  from  my 
town." 

The  young  man,  who  had  flown  back  to  Os- 
dene  Park  in  answer  to  a  telegram,  began  to 
take  his  companion  into  his  confidence. 

"I  knew  that  girl,"  Dan  said,  "when  she 
wasn't  more  than  fourteen.  She  sold  me  soda- 
water  over  the  drug  store  counter.  I  always 
78 


DAN'S    SIMPLICITY 

thought  she  was  bully,  bright  as  a  button  and 
pretty  as  a  peach.  Once,  I  remember,  I  took  six 
chocolate  sodas  in  one  day  just  to  go  in  and  see 
her.  I  had  an  awful  time.  I  most  died  of  that 
jag,  and  yet,"  he  said  meditatively,  "I  don't 
think  I  ever  spoke  three  words  to  her,  just  said 
'sarsaparilla'  or  'chocolate'  or  whatever  it  might 
happen  to  be.  Ever  since  that  day,  ever  since 
that  jag,"  he  said  with  feeling,  "I  couldn't  see  a 
stick  of  chocolate  and  keep  my  head  up !  Well," 
went  on  the  boy,  "Sarah  Towney  sang  in  our 
church  for  a  missionary  meeting,  and  I  was 
there.  I  can  remember  the  song  she  sang."  He 
spoke  with  unconscious  ardor.  He  didn't  refer 
to  the  hymn,  however,  but  went  on  with  his  nar- 
rative. "She  disappeared  from  Blairtown.  I 
never  had  a  peep  at  her  again  until  the  other 
night.  Gosh!"  he  said  fervently,  "when  I  saw 
her  there  on  the  stage,  why,  I  felt  as  though 
cold  water  was  running  up  and  down  my  spine." 
The  duchess,  as  a  rule,  was  amused  by  his 
slang.  It  seemed  vulgar  to  her  now. 
79 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

"Heavens,"  she  drawled,  "you  are  really  too 
dreadful!" 

He  didn't  seem  to  hear  her. 

"She's  turned  out  a  perfect  wonder,  hasn't 
she  ?  A  world-beater !  Why,  everybody  tells  me 
there  isn't  another  like  her  in  her  specialty.  Of 
course  I  have  heard  of  Letty  Lane,  but  I  haven't 
been  out  to  things  since  I  went  in  mourning,  and 
I've  never  run  up  against  her." 

"Really,"  drawled  the  duchess  again,  "now 
that  you  have  'run  up  against  her'  what  are  you 
going  to  do  with  her?  Marry  her?" 

His  honest  stare  was  the  greatest  relief  she 
had  ever  experienced.  He  repeated  bluntly: 
"Marry  her?  Why  the  dickens  should  I?" 

"You  seem  absorbed  in  her." 

He  agreed  with  her.  "I  am.  I  think  she's 
great,  don't  you?" 

"Hardly." 

But  the  cold  voice  of  the  duchess  did  not  chill 
him.  ''Simply  great,"  he  continued,  "and  I'm 
sorry  for  her  down  to  the  ground.  That  is  what 
80 


DAN'S    SIMPLICITY 

is  the  matter.    Didn't  you  notice  her  when  she 
came  into  the  Carlton  that  night?" 

"What  of  it,  silly?  I  thought  she  looked  as 
thin  as  a  shad  in  that  black  dress,  and  the  way 
Poniotowsky  goes  about  with  her  proves  what 
an  ass  he  is." 

"Well,  I  hate  him,"  Blair  simply  stated;  "I 
would  wring  his  neck  for  twenty  cents.  But 
she's  very  ill;  that  is  what  is  the  matter  with 
her." 

"They  all  look  like  that  off  the  stage,"  the 
duchess  assured  indifferently.  "They  are  noth- 
ing but  f  ootlight  beauties :  they  look  ghastly  off 
the  boards.  I  dare  say  that  Letty  Lane  is  ill, 
though;  the  pace  she  goes  would  kill  anybody. 
Have  some  more  tea  ?" 

He  held  out  his  cup  and  agreed  with  her. 

"She  works  too  hard — this  playing  almost 
every  night,  singing,  and  dancing  twice  at  the 
matinees,  I  should  think  she  would  be  dead." 

"Oh,  I  don't  mean  her  professional  engage- 
ments," murmured  the  duchess. 
81 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

A  revolt  such,  as  had  stung  him  when  they 
criticized  her  at  the  Carlton  rose  in  him  now. 

"It  is  hard  to  believe,"  he  said,  "when  you  hear 
her  sing  that  dove  song  and  that  cradle  song." 

But  his  companion's  laugh  stopped  his  cham- 
pionship short. 

"You  dear  boy,  don't  be  a  silly,  Dan.  She 
doesn't  need  your  pity  or  your  good  opinion. 
She  is  perfectly  satisfied.  She  has  got  a  for- 
tune in  Poniotowsky,  and  she  really  is  ea  perfect 
terror,'  you  know." 

Affected  slightly  by  her  cold  dismissal  of  his 
subject,  he  paused  for  a  moment.  But  his  own 
point  of  view  was  too  strong  to  be  shaken  by 
this  woman's  light  words. 

"I  suppose  if  she  wasn't  from  my  town — " 
At  his  words  the  vision  of  Letty  Lane  with 
the  coral  strands  on  her  dress,  came  before  his 
eyes,  and  he  said  honestly:  "But  I  do  take  an 
interest  in  her  just  the  same,  and  she's  going  to 
pieces,  that's  clear.  Something  ought  to  be 
done." 

82 


DAN'S    SIMPLICITY 

The  Duchess  of  Breakwater  was  very  much 
annoyed. 

"Are  you  going  to  talk  about  her  all  the 
time?"  she  asked  with  sharp  sweetness.  "You 
are  not  very  flattering,  Dan." 

And  he  returned  peacefully,  "Why,  I  thought 
you  might  be  able  to  help  her  in  some  way  or 
another." 

"Me!"  She  laughed  aloud.  "Me  help  Letty 
Lane?  Really — " 

"Why,  you  might  get  her  to  sing  out  here," 
he  suggested.  "That  would  sort  of  get  hold  of 
her ;  women  know  how  to  do  those  things." 

His  preposterous  simplicity  overwhelmed  her. 
She  stirred  her  tea,  and  said,  controlling  her- 
self, "Why,  what  on  earth  would  you  have  me  to 
say  to  Letty  Lane?" 

"Oh,  just  be  nice  to  her,"  he  suggested.  "Tell 
her  to  take  care  of  herself  and  to  brace  up.  Get 
some  nice  woman  to — " 

The  duchess  helped  him.    "To  reform  her?" 

"Do  her  good,"  the  boy  said  gently. 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

"You're  too  silly  for  words.  If  you  were  not 
such  a  hopeless  child  I  would  be  furious  with 
you.  Why,  my  dear  boy,  she  would  laugh  in 
your  face  and  in  mine." 

As  the  duchess  left  the  tea-table  she  repeated : 
"Is  this  what  you  came  up  from  London  to  talk 
to  me  about?" 

And  at  the  touch  of  her  dress  as  she  passed 
him — at  the  look  she  gave  him  from  her  eyes, 
Dan  flushed  and  said  honestly:  "Why,  I  told 
you  that  she  was  the  only  thing  that  kept  me 
from  thinking  about  you  all  the  time." 


CHAPTER  IX 

DISAPPOINTMENT 

DAN  BLAIR  had  not  been  back  of  the 
scenes  at  the  Gaiety  since  his  first  call 
on  the  singer.  Indeed,  though  he  had  told 
the  duchess  he  pitied  Miss  Lane,  he  had  not 
been  able  to  approach  her  very  closely,  even 
in  his  own  thoughts.  When  she  first  ap- 
peared on  his  horizon  his  mind  was  full  of  the 
Duchess  of  Breakwater,  and  the  singer  had 
only  hovered  round  his  more  profound  feelings 
for  another  woman.  But  Letty  Lane  was  an  at- 
mosphere in  Dan's  mind  which  he  was  not  yet 
able  to  understand.  There  was  so  little  left 
that  was  connected  with  his  old  home,  certainly 
nothing  in  the  British  Isles,  excepting  Ruggles, 
and  to  the  young  man  everything  from  America 
had  its  value.  Decidedly  the  nice  girl  of  whom 
85 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

he  had  spoken  to  Gordon  Galorey,  the  print- 
frocked,  sunbonneted  type,  the  ideal  girl  that 
Dan  would  like  to  marry  and  to  spoil,  had  not 
crossed  his  path.  The  Duchess  of  Breakwater  did 
not  suggest  her,  nor  did  any  of  the  London  beau- 
ties. Dan's  first  ideal  was  beginning  to  fade. 

He  left  Osdene  Park  on  protest  and  returned 
the  same  night  to  London,  and  all  the  way  back 
to  town  tried  to  register  in  his  mind,  unused  to 
analysis,  his  experience  with  the  Duchess  of 
Breakwater  on  this  last  visit. 

He  had  experienced  his  first  disappointment 
in  the  sex,  and  this  disappointment  had  been  of 
an  unusual  kind.  It  was  not  that  he  had  been 
turned  down  or  given  the  mitten,  but  he  had  seen 
one  woman  turn  another  down.  A  woman  had 
been  mean,  so  he  put  it,  and  the  fact  that  the 
Duchess  of  Breakwater  had  refused  to  lend  a 
moral  hand  to  the  singer  at  the  Gaiety  hurt 
Dan's  feelings.  Then,  as  soon  as  his  enthusi- 
asm had  calmed,  he  saw  what  a  stupid  ass  he  had 
been.  A  duchess  couldn't  mix  up  with  a  comic 
86 


DISAPPOINTMENT 

opera  singer,  of  course.     Still,  he  mused,  "she 
might  have  been  a  little  nicer  about  it." 

The  education  his  father  had  given  him  about 
women,  the  slender  information  he  had  about 
them,  was  put  to  the  test  now ;  the  girl  he  had 
dreamed  of,  "the  nice  girl,"  well,  she  would  have 
had  a  tenderer  way  with  her  in  a  case  such  as 
this !  Back  of  Dan's  hurt  feelings,  there  was  a 
great  deal  on  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater's  side. 
She  had  not  done  for  herself  yet.  She  hadn't 
fetched  him  nearly  up  to  the  altar  for  nothing, 
and  back  of  his  disapproval,  there  was  a  long 
list  of  admirations  and  looks,  memories  of  many 
tete-a-tetes  and  of  more  fervent  kisses  which 
scored  a  good  deal  in  the  favor  of  Dan's  first 
woman.  The  Duchess  of  Breakwater  had  gone 
boldly  on  with  Dan's  unfinished  education,  and 
he  really  thought  he  loved  her,  and  that  he  was 
in  honor  bound  to  see  the  thing  through. 

That  evening,  once  more  in  the  box  he  had 
taken  all  to  himself,  he  listened  to  Mandalay, 
87 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

carried  away  with  the  charm  of  the  music  and 
carried  away  by  the  singer.  He  was  in  the  box 
nearest  the  stage  and  seemed  close  to  her,  and 
he  imagined  that  under  her  paint  he  could  see 
her  pallor  and  how  thin  she  was.  Nothing,  how- 
ever, in  her  acting  or  in  her  voice  revealed  the 
least  fatigue.  Blair  had  obtained  a  card  of  en- 
trance to  the  theater,  which  permitted  him  to 
circulate  freely  behind  the  scenes,  and  although 
as  yet  the  run  of  his  visits  had  not  been  clear, 
this  night  he  had  a  purpose.  Dan  stood  not  far 
from  the  corridor  that  led  to  Letty  Lane's  room, 
and  saw  her  after  her  act  hurriedly  cross  the 
stage,  a  big  white  shawl  wrapping  her  slender 
form  closely.  She  was  as  thin  as  a  candle.  Her 
woman  Higgins  followed  closely  after  her,  and 
as  they  passed  Dan,  Letty  Lane  called  to  him 
gaily: 

"Hello,  you!   What  are  you  hanging  around 
here  for?" 

And  Dan  returned :    "Don't  stand  here  in  the 
draft.    It  is  beastly  cold." 
88 


DISAPPOINTMENT 

"Yes,  Miss,"  her  woman  urged,  "don't  stand 
here." 

But  the  actress  waited  nevertheless  and  said 
to  Dan:  "Who's  the  girl?" 

"What  girl?" 

"Why,  the  girl  you  come  here  every  night  to 
see  and  are  too  shy  to  speak  to.  Everybody  is 
crazy  to  know." 

Letty  Lane  looked  like  a  little  girl  herself  in 
the  crocheted  garment  her  small  hands  held 
across  her  breast.  Dan  put  his  arm  on  her 
shoulder  without  realizing  the  familiarity  of  his 
gesture : 

"Get  out  of  this  draft — get  out  of  it  quick, 
I  say,"  and  pushed  her  toward  her  room. 

"Gracious,  but  you  are  strong."  She  felt 
the  muscular  touch,  and  his  hand  flat  against 
her  shoulder  was  warm  through  the  wool. 

"I  wish  you  were  strong.  You  work  too 
darned  hard." 

Her  head  was  covered  with  the  coral  cap  and 
feather.  Dan  saw  her  billowy  skirt,  her  silken 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

hose,  her  little  coral  shoes.     She  fluttered  at  the 
door  which  Higgins  opened. 

"Why  haven't  you  been  to  see  me?"  she  asked 
him.  "You  are  not  very  polite." 

"I  am  coming  in  now." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  I'm  too  busy,  and  it  is  a 
short  entr'acte.  Go  and  see  the  girl  you  came 
here  to  see." 

Dan  thought  that  the  reason  she  forbade  him 
to  come  in  was  because  Prince  Poniotowsky 
waited  for  her  in  her  dressing-room.  It  was  his 
first  jealous  moment,  and  the  feeling  fell  on 
him  with  a  swoop,  and  its  fangs  fastened  in  him 
with  a  stinging  pain.  He  stammered : 

"I  didn't  come  to  see  any  girl  here  but  you.  I 
came  to  see  you." 

"Come  to-morrow  at  two,  at  the  Savoy." 

But  before  Dan  realized  his  own  precipitation, 
he  had  seized  the  door-handle  as  Letty  Lane  went 
within  and  was  about  to  close  her  room  against 
him,  and  said  quickly : 

"I'm  coming  right  in  now." 
90 


DISAPPOINTMENT 

"Why,  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing,"  she  an- 
swered sharply,  angrily;  "you  must  be  crazy! 
Take  away  your  hand !"  And  hers,  as  well  as  his, 
seized  the  handle  of  the  door.  Her  small  ice- 
cold  hand  brought  him  to  his  senses. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  murmured  confused- 
ly. "Do  go  in  and  get  warm  if  you  can." 

But  instead  of  obeying,  now  that  the  rude 
young  man  withdrew  his  importuning,  Miss 
Lane's  hands  fell  from  the  knob,  and  close  to  his 
eyes  she  swayed  before  him,  and  Dan  caught  her 
in  his  arms — went  into  her  room,  carrying  her. 
He  had  been  wrong  about  Prince  Poniotowsky; 
save  for  Higgins,  the  room  was  empty.  The 
woman,  though  she  exclaimed,  showed  no  great 
surprise  and  seemed  prepared  for  such  a  faint- 
ing spell.  Dan  laid  the  actress  on  the  sofa  and 
then  the  dresser  said  to  him : 

"Please  go,  sir ;  I  can  quite  manage.  She  has 
these  turns  often.  I'll  give  her  brandy.  She 
will  be  quite  right." 

But  Dan  hesitated,  looking  at  the  bit  of  hu- 
91 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

manity  that  he  had  laid  with  great  gentleness  on 
the  divan  covered  with  pillows.  Letty  Lane  lay 
there,  small  as  a  little  child,  inanimate  as  death. 
It  was  hard  to  think  the  quiet  little  form  could 
contain  such  life,  fire  and  motion,  or  that  this 
senseless  little  creature  held  London  with  her 
voice  and  grace.  Higgins  knelt  down  by  Letty 
Lane's  side,  quiet,  capable,  going  about  the  busi- 
ness of  resuscitating  her  lady  much  as  she  laced 
the  singer's  bodice  and  shoes.  "If  you  would  be 
so  good  as  to  open  the  door,  sir,  and  send  me  a 
call  page.  They'll  have  to  linger  out  this 
entr'acte  or  put  on  some  feature." 

"But,"  exclaimed  Blair,  "she  can't  go  back 
to-night?" 

"Lord,  yes,"  Higgins  returned.  "Here,  Miss 
Lane ;  drink  this." 

At  the  door  where  he  paused,  Dan  saw  the 
girl  lifted  up,  saw  her  lean  on  Higgins'  shoulder, 
and  assured  then  that  she  was  not  lifeless  in 
good  truth,  he  went  out  to  do  as  Higgins  had 
asked  him.  In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  curtain 


DISAPPOINTMENT 

rose  and  within  half  an  hour  Dan,  from  his  box, 
saw  the  actress  dance  to  the  rajah  her  charming 
polka  to  the  strains  of  the  Hungarian  Band. 


93 


CHAPTER  X 

THE    BOY   FBOM    MY  TOWN 

HE  went  the  next  day  to  see  Letty  Lane  at 
the  Savoy  and  learned  that  she  was  too 
ill  to  receive  him.  Mrs.  Higgins  in  the  sitting- 
room  told  him  so. 

Dan  liked  the  big  cordial  face  of  the  Scotch- 
woman who  acted  as  companion,  dresser  and 
maid  for  the  star.  Mrs.  Higgins  had  an  affable 
face,  one  that  welcomes,  and  she  made  it  plain 
that  she  was  not  an  enemy  to  this  young  caller. 

The  visitor,  in  his  blue  serge  clothes,  was  less 
startling  than  most  of  the  men  that  came  to  see 
her  mistress. 

"She  works  too  hard,  doesn't  she?" 

"She  does  everything  too  hard,  sir." 

"She  ought  to  rest." 

"I  doubt  if  she  does,  even  in  her  grave,"  re- 
94 


THE    BOY   FROM   MY   TOWN 

turned  Higgins.  "She  is  too  full  of  motion. 
She  is  like  the  little  girl  in  the  fairy  book  that 
danced  in  her  grave." 

Dan  didn't  like  this  comparison. 

"Can't  you  make  her  hold  up  a  little?" 

Higgins  smiled  and  shook  her  head. 

Letty  Lane's  sitting-room  was  as  full  of  roses 
as  a  flower  garden.  There  were  quantities  of 
theatrical  photographs  in  silver  and  leather 
frames  on  the  tables  and  the  piano.  Signed  por- 
traits from  crowned  heads ;  pictures  of  well- 
known  worldly  men  and  women  whom  the  dancer 
had  charmed.  But  a  full-length  picture  of 
Letty  Lane  herself  in  one  of  the  dresses  of  Man- 
dalay  lay  on  the  table  near  Dan,  and  he  picked 
it  up.  She  smiled  at  him  enchantingly  from  the 
cardboard,  across  which  was  written  in  her  big, 
dashing  hand:  "For  the  Boy  from  my  Town. 
Letty  Lane." 

Dan  glanced  up  at  Mrs.  Higgins. 

"Why,  that  looks  as  though  this  were   for 


95 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

The  dressing  woman  nodded.  "Miss  Lane 
thought  she  would  be  able  to  see  you  to-day." 

The  picture  in  his  hand,  Dan  gazed  at  it  rap- 
turously. 

"I'm  from  Blairtown,  Montana,  where  she 
came  from." 

"So  she  told  me,  sir." 

He  laid  the  picture  back  on  the  table,  and 
Higgins  understood  that  he  wanted  Miss  Lane 
to  give  it  to  him  herself.  She  led  him  affably  to 
the  door  and  affably  smiled  upon  him.  She  had 
a  frill  in  her  hand,  a  thimble  on  her  finger,  and 
a  lot  of  needles  in  her  bodice.  She  looked  moth- 
erly and  useful.  Blair  liked  to  think  of  her 
with  Letty  Lane.  He  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket, 
but  she  saw  his  gesture  and  reproved  him  qui- 
etly :  "No,  no,  sir,  please,  I  never  do.  I  am  just 
as  much  obliged,"  and  her  face  remained  so  affa- 
ble that  Blair  was  not  embarrassed  by  her  re- 
fusal. His  parting  words  were: 

"Now,  you  make  her  take  care  of  herself." 

And  to  please  him,  as  she  opened  the  door, 
96 


THE    BOY   FROM   MY   TOWN 

she  pleasantly  assured  him  that  she  would  do  her 
very  best. 

Dan  went  out  of  the  Savoy  feeling  that  he  had 
left  something  of  himself  behind  him  in  the  mot- 
ley room  of  an  actress  with  its  perfumed  atmos- 
phere of  roses  and  violets.  The  photograph 
which  he  had  laid  down  on  the  table  seemed  to 
look  out  at  him  again,  and  he  repeated  delight- 
edly, "That  one  was  for  me,  all  right !  I'm  the 
'boy  from  her  town'  and  no  mistake."  And  he 
thought  of  her  as  she  had  lain,  lifelessly  and 
pale  on  the  dressing-room  sofa,  under  the  touch 
of  hired  hands,  and  how,  no  doubt,  she  had 
been  lying  in  her  room  when  he  called  to-day, 
with  shades  drawn,  resting  before  the  long  hard 
evening,  when  London  would  be  amused  by  her, 
delighted  by  her,  charmed  by  her  voice,  by  her 
body  and  her  grace.  He  had  wandered  up  as  far 
as  Piccadilly,  went  into  a  florist's  and  stood  be- 
fore the  flowers.  Her  sitting-room  had  been  full 
of  roses,  but  Dan  chose  something  else  that  had 
caught  his  eye  from  the  window, — a  huge  coun- 
97 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

try  basket  of  primroses,  smelling  of  the  earth 
and  the  spring.  He  sent  them  with  his  card  and 
wrote  on  it,  "To  the  Girl  from  My  Town,"  and 
sent  the  gift  with  a  pleasure  as  young  and  as 
fresh  as  was  his  own  heart. 

He  got  no  note  of  acknowledgment  from  his 
flowers.  Miss  Lane  was  evidently  better  and 
played  every  night ;  no  mention  was  made  of  her 
indisposition  in  the  papers.  But  Dan  couldn't 
go  to  the  Gaiety  or  bear  to  see  her  make  the  ef- 
fort which  he  knew  must  tire  her  beyond  words 
to  conceive. 

After  a  few  days  he  called  at  the  Savoy  to 
get  news  of  her.  He  got  as  far  as  the  lift  when 
going  up  in  it  he  saw  Prince  Poniotowsky.  The 
sight  affected  Miss  Lane's  townsman  so  forcibly 
that  instead  of  going  up  to  the  dancer's  apart- 
ment Dan  took  himself  off,  and  anger,  displeas- 
ure and  something  like  disgust  were  the  only 
sentiments  he  carried  away  from  the  Savoy.  He 
sent  her  no  flowers,  and  gave  himself  up  unre- 
servedly to  Joshua  Ruggles  and  to  a  couple  of 


THE    BOY   FROM    MY    TOWN 

men  who  came  in  to  see  him  by  appointment. 
And  when  toward  four  o'clock  he  found  himself 
alone  with  Ruggles,  Dan  threw  himself  down  in 
a  big  chair  and  looked  intensely  bored. 

"Well,  I  guess  we  don't  need  to  see  any  more 
of  these  fellows  for  a  week,  Dan,"  Ruggles 
yawned  with  relief.  "I'm  blamed  if  it  isn't  as 
hard  to  take  care  of  money  as  to  get  it.  I  was 
a  poor  man  once,  and  so  was  your  father.  Those 
were  the  days  we  had  fun." 

Ruggles  took  out  a  big  cigar,  struck  a  match 
sharply,  and  when  he  had  lit  his  Henry  Clay  he 
fixed  his  gaze  on  the  flying  London  fog,  whose 
black  curtain  drew  itself  across  their  window. 

"There's  a  lot  of  excitement,"  Ruggles  said, 
"in  not  knowing  what  you're  going  to  get ;  may 
turn  out  to  be  anything  when  you're  young  and 
on  the  trail.  That's  the  way  your  father  and 
me  felt.  And  when  we  started  out  on  the  spot 
that's  Blairtown  on  the  map  to-day,  your  father 
had  forty  dollars  a  week  to  engineer  a  busted 
mine  and  to  pull  the  company  into  shape." 
99 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

Dan  knew  the  story  of  his  father's  rise  by 
heart,  but  he  listened. 

"He  took  on  with  the  mine  a  lot  of  discon- 
tented half-hearted  rapscallions — a  whole  bunch, 
who  had  failed  all  along  the  line.  He  didn't 
chuck  'era  out.  'There's  no  life  in  old  wood, 
Josh,'  he  said  to  me,  'but  sometimes  there's  fire  in 
it,  and  I'm  going  to  light  up,'  and  he  did.  He 
won  over  the  whole  lot  of  them  in  eighteen 
months,  and  within  two  years  he  had  that  darned 
mine  paying  dividends.  Meanwhile  something 
came  his  way  and  he  took  it." 

From  his  chair  Dan  asked:  "You  mean  the 
Bentley  claim?" 

"Measles,"  his  friend  said  comically,  with  a 
grin.  "Your  father  was  sick  to  death  with  them. 
When  he  was  sitting  up  for  the  first  time,  peel- 
ing in  his  room,  there  was  a  fellow,  an  English- 
man, a  total  stranger,  come  in  to  see  him.  'Bet- 
ter clear  out  of  here,'  your  father  says  to  him. 
'I'm  shedding  the  damnedest  disease  for  a  grown 
man  that  ever  was  caught.'  'I'm  not  afraid  of 
100 


THE    BOY   FROM   MY   TOWN 

it,'  the  Englishman  said,  'I'm  shedding  worse.' 
When  your  father  asked  him  what  that  was,  he 
said  the  idea  that  he  could  make  any  money  in 
the  West.  He  told  your  father  that  he  was  going 
back  to  England  and  give  up  his  western  schemes, 
and  that  he  had  a  claim  to  sell,  and  he  told  Blair 
where  it  lay.  'Who  has  seen  it?'  your  father 
asked.  'Any  of  my  men?'  And  the  Englishman 
told  your  father  that  nobody  had  wanted  to  buy 
it  and  that  was  why  he  had  come  to  him.  He  said 
he  thought  his  only  chance  to  sell  was  to  hold  up 
some  blind  man  on  his  dying  bed  and  that  he  had 
heard  that  Blair  was  too  sick  to  stir  out  of  his 
room  and  to  prospect.  Your  father  liked  the 
fellow's  cheek  and  when  he  found  out  that  he  had 
the  maps  with  him,  your  father  bought  the  whole 
blooming  sweep  at  the  man's  price,  which  was  a 
mere  song. 

"Your  father  never  went  near  his  purchase 
for  a  year  or  more,  and  when  he  had  turned  the 
mine  he  was  managing  over  to  the  original  com- 
pany, with  me  as  manager  in  his  place,  at  a  sal- 
101 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

ary  of  twenty  thousand  dollars  a  year,  he  said  to 
me  one  day,  'Ruggles,  you'll  be  sorry  to  know 
that  the  fun  is  all  over,  I've  struck  oil.'  But  the 
oil  was  copper.  The  whole  blooming  business 
that  he'd  bought  of  that  Englishman  was  rich 
with  ore.  Well,  that's  the\story  of  Blairtown," 
Ruggles  said.  "You  were  born  there  and  your 
mother  died  there." 

Dan  said:  "Galorey  told  me  what  dad  did 
later  for  the  man  that  sold  him  the  mine,  and  it 
was  just  like  everything  else  he  did,  for  dad  was 
all  right,  just  as  good  as  they  come." 

Ruggles  agreed.  He  left  his  reminiscences 
abruptly.  "Your  dad  and  me  had  the  fun  in  our 
time ;  now  you  are  going  to  get  the  other  kind ; 
you're  going  to  make  the  dust  fly  that  he  dug 
up." 

And  the  rich  young  man  said  musingly :  "I'll 
bet  it  isn't  half  as  good  at  my  end." 

And  Ruggles  agreed:  "Not  by  a  jugful." 
And  followed:  "What's  on  to-night?  Manda- 
lay?" 

102 


THE    BOY   FROM    MY   TOWN 

Dan's  fury  at  Prince  Poniotowsky  came  back. 
"I  guess  you  thought  I  was  a  little  loose  in  the 
lid,  didn't  you,  Josh,  going  so  often  to  the  same 
play?" 

"You  wouldn't  have  been  the  first  rich  man 
that  had  the  same  disease,"  Ruggles  answered. 

"There  is  nothing  the  matter  with  Mandalay, 
but  I'm  not  gone  on  any  actress  living,  Josh; 
you  are  in  the  wrong  pew." 

Dan  altered  his  indolent  pose  and  sat  forward. 
"But  I  am  thinking  of  getting  married,"  he  said. 

"I  hope  it's  to  the  right  girl,  Dan." 

And  with  young  assurance  Blair  answered: 
"It  will  be  if  I  marry  her.  I  know  what  I  want 
all  right." 

"I  hope  she  knows  what  she  wants,  Dan." 

"How  do  you  mean?" 

"You  or  your  money.  You  have  the  darnedest 
handicap,  my  boy." 

Blair  flushed.  "I'll  get  to  hate  the  whole 
thing,"  he  said  ferociously.  "It  meets  me  every- 
where —  bonds  —  stocks  —  figures  —  dividends 
103 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

— coupons — deeds — it's  too  much !"  he  said  sud- 
denly, with  resentment.  "It  is  too  much  for  me. 
Why,  sometimes  I  feel  a  hundred  years  old,  and 
like  a  hunk  of  gold." 

Ruggles,  in  answer  to  this,  said :  "Why,  that 
reminds  me  of  what  a  man  remarked  about  your 
father  once.  It  was  the  same  English  chap  your 
father  bought  the  claim  of.  Speaking  of  Blair, 
he  said  to  me:  'You  know  there's  all  kinds  of 
metal  bars,  and  when  you  cut  into  them  some  is 
bullion  and  some's  coated  with  aluminum,  and 
there's  others  that  when  you  cut  down,  cut  a 
clean  yellow  all  along  the  line.'  If,  as  you  say, 
you  feel  like  a  hunk  of  metal,  it  ain't  bad  if  it  is 
that  kind." 

"It's  got  to  stop  coming  in  between  me  and 
the  woman  I  marry,  all  right,  though."  Dan 
did  not  pursue  his  subject  further,  for  his  feel- 
ings about  the  duchess  were  too  unreal  to  give 
him  the  sincere  heartiness  with  which  he  would 
have  liked  to  answer  Ruggles. 

He  went  over  to  the  window,  and,  with  his 
104. 


THE    BOY   FROM   MY   TOWN 

hands  in  his  pockets,  stood  looking  out  at  the 
fog.  Ruggles,  at  the  table,  opened  the  cover  of 
the  book  of  Mandalay  and  took  out  the  four 
checks  made  out  to  Lady  Galorey  and  which  he 
had  forgotten.  He  hurriedly  thrust  them  into 
his  pocket. 

"Come  away,  Dannie,"  he  said  cheerfully, 
"let's  do  something  wild.  I  feel  up  to  most  any- 
thing with  this  miserable  fog  down  on  me.  If  it 
had  any  nerve  it  would  take  some  form  or  shape, 
so  a  man  could  choke  it  back." 

Ruggles  blew  his  nose  violently. 

"There's  nothing  to  do,"  said  Dan  in  a  bored 
tone. 

"Why  don't  you  see  who  your  telegram  is 
from?"  Ruggles  asked  him.  It  proved  to  be  a 
suggestion  from  Gordon  Galorey  that  Dan 
should  meet  him  at  five  o'clock  at  the  club. 

"What  will  you  do,  Rug?" 

"Sleep,"  said  the  Westerner  serenely;  "I'm 
nearly  as  happy  in  London  as  I  am  in  Philadel- 
phia. It's  four  o'clock  now  and  I  can't  sleep 
105 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

more  than  four  hours  anyway.  Let's  have  a  real 
wild  time,  Dannie." 

Dan  looked  at  him  doubtfully,  but  Ruggles' 
eyes  were  keen. 

"What  kind  of  a  time  do  you  mean  ?" 

"Let's  ask  the  Gaiety  girl  for  dinner — for 
supper  after  the  theater." 

"Letty  Lane  ?    She  wouldn't  go." 

"Why  not?" 

"She  is  awfully  delicate ;  it  is  all  she  can  do  to 
keep  her  contracts." 

He  knows  that,  Ruggles  thought.  "Let's  ask 
her  and  see."  He  went  over  to  the  table  and 
drew  out  the  paper.  "Come  on  and  write  and 
ask  her  to  go  out  with  us  to  supper." 

"See  here,  Rug,  what's  this  for?" 

"What's  strange  in  it?  She  is  from  our  state, 
and  if  you  don't  hustle  and  ask  her  I  am  going 
to  ask  her  all  alone." 

Dan  was  puzzled  as  he  sat  down  to  the  table, 
reflecting  that  it  was  perfectly  possible  that  old 
Ruggles  had  fallen  a  prey  to  the  charms  of  an 
106 


THE    BOY   FROM   MY   TOWN 

actress.  She  wouldn't  come,  of  course.  He 
wrote  a  formal  invitation  without  thinking  very 
much  of  what  he  said  or  how,  folded  and  ad- 
dressed his  note. 

"What  did  you  say?"  Ruggles  asked  eagerly. 

"Why,  that  two  boys  from  home  wanted  to 
give  her  a  supper." 

"Well,"  said  Ruggles,  "if  the  answer  comes 
while  you  are  at  the  club  I'll  open  it  and  give 
the  orders.  Think  she'll  come?" 

"I  do  not,"  responded  Dan  rather  brutally. 
"She's  got  others  to  take  her  out  to  supper,  you 
bet  your  life." 

"Well,  there's  none  of  them  as  rich  as  you  are, 
I  reckon,  Dan." 

And  the  boy  turned  on  him  violently. 

"See  here,  Josh,  if  you  speak  to  me  again  of 
my  money,  when  there's  a  woman  in  the  ques- 
tion— " 

He  did  not  finish  his  threat,  but  snatched  up 
his  coat  and  hat  and  gloves  and  went  out  of  the 
door,  slamming  it  after  him. 
107 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN; 

Mr.  Ruggles'  profound  and  happy  snore  was 
cut  short  by  the  page  boy,  who  fetched  in  a  note, 
with  the  Savoy  stamping  on  the  back.  Ruggles 
opened  it  not  without  emotion. 

"Dear  boy,"  it  ran,  "I  haven't  yet  thanked 
you  for  the  primroses;  they  were  perfectly 
sweet.  There  is  not  one  of  them  in  any  of  my 
rooms,  and  I'll  tell  you  why  to-night.  I  am 
crazy  to  accept  for  supper" — here  she  had  evi- 
dently struck  out  her  intended  refusal,  and 
closed  with,  "I'm  coming,  but  don't  come  after 
me  at  the  Gaiety,  please.  I'll  meet  you  at  the 
Carlton  after  the  theater.  Who's  the  other 
boy?  L.  L." 

The  "other  boy"  read  the  note  with  much  dif- 
ficulty, for  it  was  badly  written.  "He'll  have 
to  stop  sending  her  flowers  and  going  every 
night  to  the  theater  unless  he  wants  a  row  with 
the  duchess,"  he  said  dryly.  And  with  a  cer- 
tain interest  in  his  role,  Ruggles  rang  for  the 
head  waiter,  and  with  the  man's  help  ordered 
his  first  midnight  supper  for  an  actress. 
108 


CHAPTER  XI 

BUGGLES    GIVES   A   DINNER 

THE  bright  tide  of  worldly  London  flows 
after  and  around  midnight  into  the  various 
restaurants  and  supper  rooms,  and  as  well 
through  the  corridors  and  halls  of  the  Carlton. 
At  one  of  the  small  tables  bearing  a  great  ex- 
pensive bunch  of  orchids  and  soft  ferns,  Josh 
Ruggles,  in  a  new  evening  dress,  sat  waiting  for 
his  party.  Dan  had  dined  with  Lord  Galorey, 
and  the  two  men  had  gone  out  together  after- 
ward, and  Ruggles  had  not  seen  the  boy  to 
give  him  Letty  Lane's  note. 

"Got  it  with  you?"  Blair  asked  when  he  came 
in,  and  Ruggles  responded  that  he  didn't  carry 
love  letters  around  in  his  dress  clothes. 

They  could  tell  by  the  interest  in  the  room 
when  the  actress  was  coming,  and  both  men  rose 
109 


THE    GIRL   FROM    HIS    TOWN 

as  Letty  Lane  floated  in  at  flood  tide  with  a 
crowd  of  last  arrivals. 

She  had  not  dressed  this  evening  with  the 
intention  that  her  dark  simplicity  of  attire 
should  be  conspicuous.  The  cloak  which  Dan 
took  from  her  shed  the  perfume  of  orris  and 
revealed  the  woman  in  a  blaze  of  sparkling 
paillettes.  She  seemed  made  out  of  sparkle,  and 
her  blond  head,  from  which  a  bright  ornament 
shook,  was  the  most  brilliant  thing  about  her, 
though  her  dress  from  hem  to  throat  glistened 
with  discs  of  gold  like  moonshine  on  a  starry 
sea.  The  actress'  look  of  surprise  when  she  saw 
Ruggles  indicated  that  she  had  not  expected  a 
boy  of  his  age. 

"The  other  boy?"  she  asked.  "Well,  this  is 
the  nicest  supper  party  ever!  And  you  are 
awfully  good  to  invite  me." 

Ruggles  patted  his  shirt  front  and  adjusted 
his  cravat. 

"My  idea,"  he  told  her,  "all  the  blame  on  me, 
Miss  Lane.    Charge  it  up  to  me !    Dan  here  had 
110 


RUGGLES    GIVES    A   DINNER 

cold  feet  from  the  first.    He  said  you  wouldn't 
come." 

She  laughed  deliciously. 
"He  did?    Hasn't  got  much  faith,  has  he?" 
Miss  Lane  drew  her  long  gloves  off,  touched 
the  orchids  with  her  little  hands,  on  which  the 
ever  present  rings  flashed,  and  went  on  talking 
to  Ruggles,  to  whom  she  seemed  to  want  to  ad- 
dress her  conversation. 

"I'm  simply  crazy  over  these  flowers." 
The  older  man  showed  his  pleasure.  "My 
choice  again !  Walked  up  myself  and  chose  the 
bunch,  blame  me  again ;  ditto  dinner ;  mine  from 
start  to  finish — hope  you'll  like  it.  I  would 
have  added  some  Montana  peas  and  some  choco- 
late soda-water,  only  I  thought  you  might  not 
understand  the  joke." 

Miss  Lane  beamed  on  him.  Although  he 
was  unconscious  of  it,  she  was  not  fully  at  ease : 
he  was  not  the  kind  of  man  she  had  expected  to 
see.  Accustomed  to  young  fellows  like  the  boy 
and  their  mad  devotion,  accustomed  to  men  with 
111 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

whom  she  could  be  herself,  the  big,  bluff,  middle- 
aged  gentleman  with  his  painfully  correct  tie, 
his  rumpled  iron-gray  hair,  and  his  deference  to 
her,  though  an  unusual  diversion,  was  a  little 
embarrassing. 

"Oh,  I  know  your  dinner  is  ripping,  Mr. 
Ruggles.  I'm  on  a  diet  of  milk  and  eggs  my- 
self, and  I  expect  your  order  didn't  take  in 
those."  But  at  his  fallen  countenance  she  hur- 
ried to  say:  "Oh,  I  wouldn't  have  told  you 
that  if  I  hadn't  been  intending  to  break 
through." 

And  with  childlike  anticipation  she  clapped 
her  hands  and  said:  "We're  going  to  have  'lots 
of  fun.'  Just  think,  they  don't  know  what  that 
means  here  in  London.  They  say  'heaps  of 
sport,  you  know.' "  She  imitated  the  accent 
maliciously.  "It's  just  we  Americans  who  know 
what  'lots  of  fun'  is,  isn't  it?" 

Near  her  Dan  Blair's  young  eyes  were  drink- 
ing in  the  spectacle  of  delicate  beauty  beauti- 
fully gowned,  of  soft  skin,  glorious  hair,  and 


RUGGLES    GIVES    A   DINNER 

he  gazed  like  a  child  at  a  pantomime.  Under 
his  breath  he  exclaimed  now,  with  effusion,  "You 
bet  your  life  we  are  going  to  have  lots  of  fun !" 
And  turning  to  him,  Miss  Lane  said: 

"Six  chocolate  sodas  running?" 

"Oh,  don't,"  he  begged,  "not  that  kind  of 

jag-" 

She  shook  with  laughter. 

"Are  you  from  Blairtown,  Mr.  Ruggles?  I 
don't  think  I  ever  saw  you  there." 

And  the  Westerner  returned:  "Well,  from 
what  Dan  tells  me,  you're  not  much  of  a  fixture 
yourself,  Miss  Lane.  You  were  just  about  born 
and  then  kidnapped." 

Her  gay  expression  faded.  And  she  repeated 
his  word,  "Kidnapped?  That's  a  good  word 
for  it,  Mr.  Ruggles." 

She  picked  up  between  her  fingers  a  strand  of 
the  green  fern,  and  looked  at  its  delicate  tracery 
as  it  lay  on  the  palm  of  her  hand. 

"I  sang  one  day  after  a  missionary  sermon  in 
the  Presbyterian  Church."  She  interrupted  her- 
113 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

self  with  a  short  laugh.  "But  I  guess  you're 
not  thinking  of  writing  my;  biography,  are 
you?" 

And  it  was  Dan's  voice  that  urged  her.  "Say, 
do  go  on.  I  was  there  that  day  with  my  father, 
and  you  sang  simply  out  of  sight." 

"Yes,"  she  accepted,  "out  of  sight  of  Blair- 
town  and  everybody  I  ever  knew.  I  went  away 
the  next  day."  She  lifted  her  glass  of  cham- 
pagne to  her  lips.  "Here's  one  thing  I  oughtn't 
to  do,"  she  said,  "but  I'm  going  to  just  the 
same.  I'm  going  to  do  everything  I  want  this 
evening.  Remember,  I  let  you  drink  six  glasses 
of  chocolate  soda  once."  She  drained  her  glass 
and  her  friends  drank  with  her.  "I  like  this 
soup  awfully.  What  is  it?" — just  touching  it 
with  her  spoon. 

"Why,"  Ruggles  hastened  to  tell  her,  "it 
ain't  a  party  soup,  it's  Scotch  broth.  But  some- 
how it  sounded  good  on  the  bill  of  fare.  I  fixed 
the  rest  of  the  dinner  up  for  you  and  Dan,  but 
I  let  myself  go  on  the  soup,  it's  my  favorite." 


RUGGLES    GIVES    A    DINNER 

She  did  not  eat  it,  however,  although  she  said 
it  was  splendid  and  that  she  was  crazy  about  it. 

"Did  you  come  East  then?"  Dan  returned  to 
what  she  had  been  saying. 

"Yes,  that  week;  went  to  Paris  and  all  over 
the  place." 

She  instantly  fell  into  a  sort  of  melancholy. 
It  was  easy  to  be  seen  that  she  did  not  want  to 
talk  about  her  past  and  yet  that  it  fascinated 
her. 

"Just  think  of  it!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  never 
heard  a  word  about  you  until  I  heard  you  sing 
the  other  night." 

The  actress  laughed  and  told  him  that  he  had 
made  up  for  lost  time,  and  that  he  was  a  regular 
"sitter"  now  at  the  Gaiety. 

Ruggles  said,  "He  took  me  every  night  to 
see  you  dance  until  I  balked,  Miss  Lane." 

"Still,  it's  a  perfectly  great  show,  Mr.  Rug- 
gles, don't  you  think  so?  I  like  it  better  than 
any  part  I  ever  had.  I  am  interested  about  it 
for  the  sake  of  the  man  who  wrote  it,  too.  It's 
115 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

his  first  opera ;  he's  an  invalid  and  has  a  wife 
and  five  kids  to  look  after." 

And  Ruggles  replied,  "Oh,  gracious!  I  feel 
better  than  ever,  having  gone  ten  times,  al- 
though I  wasn't  very  sore  about  it  before! 
Ain't  you  going  to  eat  anything  ?" 

She  only  picked  at  her  food,  drinking  what 
they  poured  in  her  glass,  and  every  time  she 
spoke  to  Dan  a  look  of  charming  kindness 
crossed  her  face,  an  expression  of  good  fellow- 
ship which  Ruggles  noted  with  interest. 

"I  wish  you  could  have  seen  this  same  author 
to-day  at  the  rehearsal  of  the  play,"  Letty  Lane 
went  on.  "He's  too  ill  to  walk  and  they  had  to 
carry  him  in  a  chair.  We  all  went  round  to  his 
apartments  after  the  theater.  He  lives  in  three 
rooms  with  his  whole  family  and  he's  had  so 
many  debts  and  so  much  trouble  and  such  a 
poor  contract  that  he  hasn't  made  much  out  of 
Mandalay,  but  I  guess  he  will  out  of  this  new 
piece.  He  hugged  and  kissed  me  until  I  thought 
he  would  break  my  neck." 
116 


RUGGLES    GIVES    A   DINNER 

London  had  gone  mad  over  Letty  Lane,  whose 
traits  and  contour  were  the  admiration  of  the 
world  at  large  and  well-known  even  to  the  news- 
boys, and  whose  likeness  was  nearly  as  familiar 
as  that  of  the  Madonnas  of  old.  Her  face  was 
oval  and  perfectly  formed,  with  the  reddest  of 
mouths — the  most  delicious  and  softest  of 
mouths — the  line  of  her  brows  clear  and  straight, 
and  her  gray  eyes  large  and  as  innocent  and 
appealing  as  a  child's;  under  their  long  lashes 
they  opened  up  like  flowers.  It  was  said  that 
no  man  could  withstand  their  appeal;  that  she 
had  but  to  look  to  make  a  man  her  slave ;  and  as 
more  than  once  she  turned  to  Dan,  smiling  and 
gracious,  Ruggles  watched  her,  mutely  thinking 
of  what  he  had  heard  this  day,  for  after  her  let- 
ter came  accepting  their  invitation  he  had  taken 
pains  to  find  out  the  things  he  wanted  to  know. 
It  had  not  been  difficult.  As  her  face  and  form 
were  public,  on  every  post-card  and  in  every 
photographer's  shop,  so  the  actress'  reputation 
was  the  property  of  the  public. 
117 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

As  Ruggles  repeated  these  things  to  himself, 
he  watched  her  beside  the  son  of  his  old  friend. 
They  were  talking — rather  she  was — and  behind 
the  orchids  and  the  ferns  her  voice  was  sweet 
and  enthralling.  Ruggles  tried  to  appreciate 
his  bill  of  fare  while  the  two  appreciated  each 
other.  It  was  strange  to  Dan  to  have  her  so 
near  and  so  approachable.  His  sights  of  her 
off  the  stage  had  been  so  slight  and  fleeting. 
On  the  boards  she  had  seemed  to  be  an  unreal 
creation  made  for  the  public  alone.  Her  dress, 
cut  fearlessly  low,  displayed  her  lovely  young 
bosom — soft,  bloomy,  white  as  a  shell — and  her 
head  and  ears  were  as  delicate  as  the  petals  of 
a  white  rose.  Low  in  the  nape  of  her  neck,  her 
golden  hair  lay  lightly,  and  from  its  soft  masses 
fragrance  came  to  him. 

Ruggles  could  hear  her  say:  "Roach  came 
to  the  house  and  told  my  people  that  I  had  a 
fortune  in  my  voice.  I  was  living  with  my  uncle 
and  my  step-aunt  and  working  in  the  store. 
And  that  same  day  your  father  sent  down  a 
118 


RUGGLES    GIVES   A   DINNER 

check  for  five  hundred  dollars.  He  said  it  was 
'for  the  little  girl  with  the  sweet  voice,'  and  it 
gives  me  a  lot  of  pleasure  to  think  that  I  began 
my  lessons  on  that  money." 

The  son  of  old  Dan  Blair  said  earnestly: 
"I'm  darned  glad  you  did — I'm  darned  glad  you 
did!" 

Letty  Lane  nodded.  "So  am  I.  But,"  with 
some  sharpness,  "I  don't  see  why  you  speak  that 
way.  I've  earned  my  way.  I  made  a  fortune 
for  Roach  all  right." 

"You  mean  the  man  you  married?" 

"Married — goodness  gracious,  what  made  you 
think  that?"  She  threw  back  her  pretty  head 
and  laughed — a  laugh  with  the  least  possible 
merriment  in  it.  "Oh,  Heavens,  marry  old  Job 
Roach!  So  they  say  that,  do  they?  I  never 
heard  that.  I  hear  a  lot,  but  I  never  heard  that 
fairy  tale."  She  put  her  hands  to  her  cheeks, 
which  had  grown  crimson.  "That's  not  true!" 

Dan  swore  at  himself  for  his  tactless  stu- 
pidity. 

119 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

Ruggles  had  heard  both  sides.  She  was 
adored  by  the  poor,  and,  as  far  as  rumor  knew, 
she  spent  thousands  on  the  London  paupers, 
and  the  Westerner,  who  had  never  been  given 
to  reveling  in  scandals  and  to  whom  there  was 
something  wicked  in  speaking  ill  of  a  woman, 
no  matter  whom  she  might  be,  listened  with 
embarrassment  to  tales  he  had  been  told  in  an- 
swer to  his  other  questions;  and  turned  with 
relief  to  the  stories  of  Letty  Lane's  charity,  and 
to  the  stories  of  her  popularity  and  her  success. 
They  were  more  agreeable,  but  they  couldn't 
make  him  forget  the  rest,  and  now  as  he  looked 
at  her  face  across  the  bouquet  of  orchids  and 
ferns,  it  was  with  a  sinking  of  heart,  a  great 
pity  for  her,  and  still  a  decided  enmity.  He 
disapproved  of  her  down  to  the  ground.  He 
didn't  let  himself  think  how  he  felt,  but  it  was 
for  the  boy.  Ruggles  was  not  a  man  of  the 
world  in  any  sense ;  he  was  simple  and  Puritan  in 
his  judgments,  and  his  gentle  nature  and  his  big 
heart  kept  him  from  pharisaical  and  strenuous 
120 


RUGGLES   GIVES   A   DINNER 

measures.  He  had  been  led  in  what  he  was  doing 
to-night  by  a  diplomacy  and  a  common  sense 
that  few  men  east  of  the  Mississippi  would  have 
thought  out  under  the  circumstances. 

"Tell  Mr.  Ruggles,"  he  heard  Dan  say  to 
her,  "tell  him— tell  him !" 

And  she  answered : 

"I  was  telling  Mr.  Blair  that,  as  he  is  so 
frightfully  rich,  I  want  him  to  give  me  some 
money." 

Ruggles  gasped,  but  answered  quietly : 

"Well,  he's  a  great  giver,  Miss  Lane." 

"I  guess  he  is  if  he's  like  his  father !"  she  re- 
turned. "I  am  trying  to  get  a  lot,  though,  out 
of  him,  and  when  you  asked  me  to  dine  to-night 
I  said  to  myself,  'I'll  accept,  for  it  will  be  a  good 
time  to  ask  Mr.  Blair  to  help  me  out  in  what  I 
want  to  do.' " 

At  Ruggles'  face  she  smiled  sweetly  and  said 
graciously : 

"Oh,  don't  think  I  wouldn't  have  come  any- 
way. But  I'm  awfully  tired  these  days,  and 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

going  out  to  supper  Is  just  one  thing  too  much  to 
do!  I  want  Mr.  Blair,"  she  said,  turning  to 
Ruggles  as  if  she  knew  a  word  from  him  would 
make  the  thing  go  through,  "to  help  me  build 
a  rest  home  down  on  the  English  coast,  for 
girls  who  get  discouraged  in  their  art.  When 
I  think  of  the  luck  I  have  had  and  how  these 
things  have  been  from  the  beginning,  and  how 
money  has  just  poured  in,  why,"  she  said  ar- 
dently, "it  just  makes  my  heart  ache  to  think 
of  the  girls  who  try  and  fail,  who  go  on  for  a 
little  while  and  have  to  give  up.  You  can't 
tell," — she  nodded  to  Ruggles,  as  though  she 
were  herself  a  matron  of  forty, — "you  can  not 
tell  what  their  temptations  are  or  what  comes 
up  to  make  them  go  to  pieces." 

Ruggles  listened  with  interest. 

"I  haven't  thought  it  all  out  yet,  but  so  many 
come  to  me  tired  out  and  discouraged,  and  I 
think  a  nice  home  taken  care  of  by  a  good  crea- 
ture like  my  Higgins,  let  us  say,  would  be  a 
perfect  blessing  to  them.  They  could  go  there 


RUGGLES    GIVES    A   DINNER 

and  rest  and  study  and  just  think,  and  per- 
haps," she  said  slowly,  as  though  while  she 
spoke  she  saw  a  vision  of  a  tired  self,  for  whom 
there  had  been  no  rest  home  and  no  place  of 
retreat,  "perhaps  a  lot  of  them  would  pull 
through  in  a  different  way.  Now  to-day" — she 
broke  her  meditative  tone  short — "I  got  a  letter 
from  a  hospital  where  a  poor  thing  that  used 
to  sing  with  me  in  New  York  was  dying  with 
consumption — all  gone  to  pieces  and  discour- 
aged, and  there  is  where  your  primroses  went 
to — "  she  nodded  to  Dan.  "Higgins  took  them. 
You  don't  mind?"  And  Blair,  with  a  warmth 
in  his  voice,  touched  by  her  pity  more  than  by 
her  charity,  said: 

"Why,  they  grew  for  you,  Miss  Lane ;  I  don't 
care  what  you  do  with  them." 

Letty  Lane  sank  her  head  on  her  hands,  her 
elbows  leaned  on  the  table.  She  seemed  sud- 
denly to  have  lost  interest  even  in  her  topic. 
She  looked  around  the  room  indifferently.  The 
orchestra  was  softly  playing  The  Dove  Song 
123 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

from  Mandalay,  and  very  softly  under  her 
breath  the  star  hummed  it,  her  eyes  vaguely 
fixed  on  some  unknown  scene.  To  Dan  and  to 
Ruggles  she  had  grown  strange.  The  music, 
her  brilliancy,  her  sudden  indifference,  put  her 
out  of  their  commonplace  reach.  Ruggles  to 
himself  thought  with  relief: 

"She  doesn't  care  one  rap  for  the  boy  any- 
way, thank  God.  She's  got  other  fish  to  land." 

And  Dan  Blair  thought:  "It's  my  infernal 
money  again."  But  he  was  generous  at  heart 
and  glad  to  be  of  service  to  her,  and  was  per- 
fectly willing  to  be  "touched"  for  her  poor. 
Then  two  or  three  men  came  up  and  joined  them. 
She  greeted  them  indolently,  bestowing  a  word 
or  a  look  on  this  one  or  on  that;  all  fire  and 
light  seemed  to  have  gone  out  of  her,  and  Dan 
said: 

"You  are  tired.  I  guess  I  had  better  take  you 
home." 

She  did  not  appear  to  hear  him.  Indeed  she 
was  not  looking  at  him,  and  Dan  saw  Prince 


RUGGLES    GIVES    A   DINNER 

Poniotowsky  making  his  way  toward  their  table 
across  the  room. 

Letty  Lane  rose.  Dan  put  her  cloak  about 
her  shoulders,  and  glancing  toward  Ruggles 
and  toward  the  boy  as  indifferently  as  she  had 
considered  the  new-comers,  who  formed  a  small 
group  around  the  brilliant  figure  of  the  actress, 
she  nodded  good  night  to  both  Ruggles  and 
Blair  and  went  up  to  the  Hungarian  as  though 
he  were  her  husband,  who  had  come  to  take  her 
home.  However,  at  the  door  she  sufficiently 
shook  off  her  mood  to  smile  slightly  at  Dan : 

"I  have  had  'lots  of  fun,'  and  the  Scotch 
broth  was  great !  Thank  you  both  so  much." 

Until  they  were  up  in  their  sitting-room  her 
hosts  did  not  exchange  a  word.  Then  Ruggles 
took  a  book  up  from  the  table  and  sat  down  with 
his  cigar.  "I  am  going  to  read  a  little,  Dan. 
Slept  all  day ;  feel  as  wide-awake  as  an  owl." 

Dan  showed  no  desire  to  be  communicative, 
however,  to  Ruggles'  disappointment,  but  he  ex- 
claimed abruptly : 

125 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

"I'll  be  darned,  Ruggles,  if  I  can  guess  what 
you  asked  her  for !" 

"Well,  it  did  turn  out  to  be  a  pretty  expen- 
sive party  for  you,  Dannie,  didn't  it?"  Ruggles 
returned  humorously.  "I'll  let  you  off  from  any 
more  supper  parties." 

And  Dan  fumed  as  he  turned  his  back.  "Ex- 
pensive! There  you  are  again,  Ruggles,  with 
your  infernal  intrusion  of  money  into  everything 
I  do." 

When  the  older  man  found  himself  alone,  he 
read  a  little  and  then  put  his  book  down  to 
muse.  And  his  meditations  were  on  the  tide  of 
life  and  the  beds  it  runs  over;  the  living  whirl- 
pool as  Ruggles  himself  had  seen  it  coursing 
through  London  under  fog  and  mist.  It  seemed 
now  to  surge  up  in  the  dark  to  his  very  win- 
dows, and  the  flow  mysteriously  passed  under 
his  windows  in  these  silent  hours  when  no  one 
can  see  the  muddy,  muddy  bottom  over  which  the 
waters  go.  Out  of  the  sound,  as  it  flowed  on, 
the  cries  rose,  he  thought,  kindly  to  his  ears: 
126 


RUGGLES   GIVES    A   DINNER 

"God  bless  her— God  bless  Letty  Lane!"  And 
with  this  sound  he  closed  his  meditations,  think- 
ing of  a  more  peaceful  stream,  the  brighter, 
sweeter  waters  of  the  boy's  nature,  translucent 
and  clear.  The  vision  was  happier,  and  with  it 
Ruggles  rose  and  yawned,  and  shut  his  book. 


127 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  GKEEN  KNIGHT 

THE  Duchess  of  Breakwater  had  made  Dan 
promise  at  Osdene  the  day  he  went  back  to 
London  that  he  would  take  her  over  to  her  own 
place,    Stainer    Court,    and    with    her    see    the 
beauty,  ruins  and  traditions  of  the  place. 

When  Dan  got  up  well  on  in  the  morning, 
Ruggles  had  gone  to  the  bank.  Dan's  thoughts 
turned  from  everything  to  Letty  Lane.  With 
irritation  he  put  her  out  of  his  mind.  There 
had  come  up  between  himself  and  the  girl  he 
had  known  slightly  in  his  own  town  years  ago 
a  wall  of  partition.  Every  time  he  saw  her 
Poniotowsky  was  there,  condescending,  arro- 
gant, rude  and  proud.  The  prince  the  night 
before  had  given  the  tips  of  his  fingers  to  Dan, 
nodded  to  Ruggles  as  if  the  Westerner  had  been 
128 


THE    GREEN   KNIGHT 

his  tailor,  and  had  appropriated  Letty  Lane,  and 
she  had  gone  away  under  his  shadow.  The  sim- 
plicity of  Dan's  life,  his  decent  bringing  up, 
his  immaculate  youth,  for  such  it  was,  his  aloof- 
ness from  the  world,  made  him  nai've,  but  he  was 
not  dull.  He  waited — not  like  a  skeptic  who 
would  fit  every  one  into  his  pigeonholes — on  the 
contrary,  he  waited  to  find  every  one  as  perfect 
as  he  knew  they  must  be,  and  every  time  he  tried 
to  think  of  Letty  Lane,  Poniotowsky  troubled 
him  horribly  and  seemed  to  rise  before  him,  and 
sardonically  look  at  him  through  his  eye-glass, 
making  the  boy's  belief  in  good  things  ridicu- 
lous. 

He  wrote  a  note  to  Ruggles,  saying  that  lie 
would  be  back  late  and  not  to  wait  for  him,  and 
set  out  in  his  own  car  for  Blankshire,  where  the 
duchess  was  to  meet  him  at  Stainer  Court  at 
noon.  On  his  way  out  he  decided  that  he  had 
been  a  fool  to  discuss  Letty  Lane  with  the 
Duchess  of  Breakwater,  and  that  it  had  been 
none  of  his  business  to  put  her  duty  before  her? 
129 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

and  that  he  had  judged  her  quickly  and  un- 
fairly. He  fell  in  love  with  the  lovely  English 
country  over  which  his  motor  took  him,  and  it 
made  him  more  affectionate  toward  the  English 
woman.  He  sat  back  in  his  car,  looking  over 
the  fine  shooting  land,  the  misty  golden  forests, 
as  through  the  misty  country  his  motor  took  its 
way.  The  breath  of  England  was  on  his  cheeks, 
he  breathed  in  its  odors  fresh  and  sweet,  the 
windless  air  was  cool  and  fragrant.  His  cheeks 
grew  red,  his  eyes  shone  like  stars,  and  he  was 
content  with  his  youth  and  his  lot.  When  they 
stopped  at  Castelene,  the  property  belonging 
to  Stainer  Court,  he  felt  something  of  propri- 
etorship stir  in  him,  and  at  Stainer  Arms  or- 
dered a  drink,  bought  petroleum,  and  then 
pushed  up  the  avenue  under  the  leafless  giant 
trees,  whose  roots  were  older  than  his  father's 
name  or  than  any  state  of  the  Union.  And  he 
felt  admiration  and  something  like  emotion  as 
he  saw  the  first  towers  of  Stainer  Court  finally 
appear. 

130 


THE    GREEN    KNIGHT 

The  duchess  waited  for  him  in  the  room  known 
as  the  "Green  Knight's  Room,"  because  of  a 
figure  in  tapestry  on  the  walls.  The  legend  in 
wool  had  been  woven  in  Spain,  somewhere  about 
the  time  when  Isabella  was  kind,  and  when  in 
turn  a  continent  loomed  up  for  the  world  in  gen- 
eral out  of  the  mist.  The  subject  of  the  Green 
Knight's  tapestry  was  simple  and  convincing. 
On  a  sheer-cut  village  of  low  ferns,  where  daisies 
stood  up  like  trees,  a  slender  lady  poised,  her 
dark  sandaled  feet  on  the  pin-like  turf.  Her 
figure  was  all  swathed  round  with  a  spotless 
dress  of  woolly  white,  softened  by  age  into  a 
golden  misty  tone,  and  a  pair  of  friendly  and 
confidential  rabbits  sat  close  to  her  golden  slip- 
pers. The  lady's  face  was  candid  and  mild ;  her 
eyes  were  soft,  and  around  her  head  was  wound 
a  fillet  of  woven  threads,  mellow  in  tone,  a  red, 
no  doubt,  originally,  but  softened  to  a  coral 
pink  by  time.  This  lady  in  all  her  grace  and 
virginal  sweetness  was  only  half  of  the  woven 
story.  To  her  right  stood  a  youth  in  forest 
131 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN' 

green,  his  sword  drawn,  and  his  intention  evi- 
dently to  kill  a  creature  which,  near  to  the  gentle 
rabbits,  out  of  the  daisied  grass  lifted  its  cruel 
snakelike  head.  For  nearly  five  hundred  years 
the  serpent's  venom  had  been  poised,  and  if  the 
serpent  should  start  the  Green  Knight  weuld 
strike,  too,  at  the  same  magic  moment. 

Close  to  the  tapestry  a  fire  had  been  laid  in 
the  broad  fireplace,  and  the  duchess  had  ordered 
the  luncheon  table  for  Dan  and  herself  spread 
with  the  cold  things  England  knows  how  to  com- 
bine into  a  delectable  feast.  The  room  was  full 
of  mediaeval  furnishings,  but  the  Green  Knight 
was  the  best  of  all.  The  Duchess  of  Break- 
water took  him  for  granted.  She  had  known 
him  all  her  life,  and  she  had  only  been  struck 
by  his  expensive  beauty  when  the  offer  came  to 
her  from  the  National  Museum  to  buy  him,  and 
she  wondered  how  long  she  could  afford  to  stick 
to  her  price. 

When  Dan  came  in  he  found  her  in  a  short 
tweed  skirt,  a  mannish  blouse,  looking  boyish 
132 


THE    GREEN   KNIGHT 

and  wholly  charming,  and  she  mixed  him  a  cock- 
tail under  the  Green  Knight's  very  nose  and 
offered  it  with  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent  itself, 
and  the  duchess  didn't  in  the  least  suggest  the 
white-robed,  milk-white  lady. 

The  friends  drank  their  cocktails  in  goo'd 
spirits,  and  Dan  presented  the  lady  with  the 
flowers  he  had  brought  her,  and  he  felt  a  strong 
sentiment  stir  at  the  sight  of  her  in  this  old 
room,  alone  and  waiting  for  him.  The  servants 
left  them,  the  duchess  put  her  hands  on  the  boy's 
broad  shoulders.  Nearly  as  tall  as  he,  she  was 
a  good  example  of  the  best-looking  English 
woman,  straight  and  strong,  and  her  eyes  were 
level,  and  Dan  met  them  with  his  own. 

"I  am  so  glad  you  came,"  she  murmured. 
"I've  been  ragging  myself  every  minute  since 
you  went  away  from  Osdene." 

"You  have?    What  for?" 

"Because  I  was  such  a  perfect  prig.  I'll  do 
anything  you  like  for  Miss  Lane.  I  mean  to  say, 
I'll  arrange  for  a  musicale  and  ask  her  to  sing." 
133 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

The  color  rushed  into  Dan's  face.  How  bully 
of  her!  What  a  brick  this  showed  her  to  be! 
He  said :  "You  are  as  sweet  as  a  peach !" 

The  duchess'  hands  were  still  on  his  shoulders. 
She  could  feel  his  rapid  breath. 

"I  don't  make  you  think  of  a  box  of  candy 
now?"  she  murmured,  and  the  boy  covered  her 
hand  with  his  own. 

"I  don't  know  what  you  make  me  think  of — 
it  is  bully,  whatever  it  is !" 

If  the  Spanish  tapestry  could  only  have  re- 
versed its  idea,  and  if  the  immaculate  lady,  or 
even  one  of  the  rabbits,  could  have  drawn  a 
sword  to  protect  the  Green  Knight,  it  would 
have  been  passing  well.  But  the  woven  work, 
when  it  first  had  been  embroidered,  was  done  for 
ever;  it  was  irrevocable  in  its  mistaken  idea, 
that  it  is  only  the  woman  who  needs  protection ! 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  FACE  OF   LETTY   LANS 

AS  Dan  went  through  the  halls  of  the  Carl- 
ton  on  his  way  to  his  rooms  that  same 
evening,  the  porter  gave  him  two  notes,  which 
Dan  went  down  into  the  smoking-room  to  read. 
He  tore  open  the  note  bearing  the  Hotel  Savoy 
on  the  envelope,  and  read: 

"DEAR  BOY:  Will  you  come  around  to-night 
and  see  me  about  five  o'clock?  Don't  let  any- 
thing keep  you."  (Letty  Lane  had  the  habit  of 
scratching  out  phrases  to  insert  others,  and 
there  was  something  scratched  out.)  "I  want  to 
talk  to  you  about  something  very  important. 
Come  sure.  L.  L." 

Dan  looked  at  the  clock;  it  was  after  nine, 
and  she  would  be  at  the  Gaiety  going  on  with 
her  performance. 

The  other  note,  which  he  opened  more  slowly, 
135 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

was  from  Ruggles,  and  it  began  in  just  the 
same  way  as  the  dancer's  had  begun : 


"DEAR  BOY  :  I  have  been  suddenly  called  back 
to  the  United  States.  As  I  didn't  know  how  to 
get  at  you,  I  couldn't.  I  had  a  cable  that  takes 
me  right  back.  I  get  the  Lusitania  at  Liverpool 
and  you  can  send  me  a  Marconi.  Better  make  the 
first  boat  you  can  and  come  over. 

"JOSHUA  RUGGLES." 


Ruggles  left  no  word  of  advice,  and  uncon- 
scious of  this  master  stroke  on  the  part  of  the 
old  man,  whose  heart  yearned  for  him  as  for 
his  own  son,  Dan  folded  the  note  up  and  thought 
no  more  about  Ruggles. 

When  an  hour  later  he  came  out  of  the  Carl- 
ton  he  was  prepared  for  the  life  of  the  evening. 
He  stopped  at  the  telephone  desk  and  sent  a 
telegram  to  Ruggles  on  the  Lusitania: 


"Can't  come  yet  a  while;  am  engaged  to  be 
married  to  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater." 

136 


THE    FACE    OF   LETTY   LANE 

He  wrote  this  out  In  full  and  the  man  at  the 
Marconi  "sat  up"  and  smiled  as  he  wrote.  With 
Letty  Lane's  badly  written  note  in  his  pocket, 
and  wondering  very  much  at  her  summons  of 
him,  Dan  drove  to  the  Gaiety,  and  at  the  end  of 
the  third  act  went  back  of  the  scenes.  There 
were  several  people  in  her  dressing-room.  Hig- 
gins  was  lacing  her  into  a  white  bodice  and  Miss 
Lane,  before  her  glass,  was  putting  the  rouge 
on  her  lips. 

"Hello,  you,"  she  nodded  to  Dan. 

"I  am  awfully  sorry  not  to  have  shown  up  at 
five.  Just  got  your  note.  Just  got  in  at  the 
hotel ;  been  out  of  town  all  day." 

Dan  saw  that  none  of  the  people  in  the  room 
was  familiar  to  him,  and  that  they  were  out  of 
place  in  the  pretty  brocaded  nest.  One  of  them 
was  a  Jew,  a  small  man  with  a  glass  eye,  whose 
fixed  stare  rested  on  Miss  Lane.  He  had  kept 
on  his  overcoat,  and  his  derby  hat  hung  on  the 
back  of  his  head. 

"Give  Mr.  Cohen  the  box,  Higgins,"  Miss 
187 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

Lane  directed,  and  bending  forward,  brought 
her  small  face  close  to  the  glass,  and  her  hands 
trembled  as  she  handled  the  rouge  stick. 

Mr.  Cohen  in  one  hand  held  a  string  of  pearls 
that  fell  through  his  fat  fingers,  as  if  eager  to 
escape  from  them.  Higgins  obediently  placed 
a  small  box  in  his  hand. 

"Take  it  and  get  out  of  here,"  she  ordered 
Cohen.  "Miss  Lane  has  only  got  five  minutes." 

Cohen  turned  the  stub  of  his  cigar  in  his 
mouth  unpleasantly  without  taking  the  trouble 
to  remove  it.  "I'll  take  the  box,"  he  said  rap- 
idly, "and  when  I  get  good  and  ready  I'll  get 
out  of  here,  but  not  before." 

"Now  see  here,"  Blair  began,  but  Miss  Lane, 
who  had  finished  her  task,  motioned  him  to  be 
quiet. 

"Please  go  out,  Mr.  Blair,"  she  said.  "Please 
go  out.  Mr.  Cohen  is  here  on  business  and  I 
really  can't  see  anybody  just  now." 

Behind  the  Jew  Higgins  looked  up  at 
Dan  and  he  understood — but  he  didn't  heed  her 
138 


THE    FACE   OF   LETTY   LANE 

warning;  nothing  would  have  induced  him  to 
leave  Letty  Lane  like  this. 

"I'm  not  going,  though,  Miss  Lane,"  he  said 
frankly.  "I've  got  an  appointment  with  you 
and  I'm  going  to  stay." 

As  he  did  so  the  other  people  in  the  room 
took  form  for  him :  a  blind  beggar  with  a  stick 
in  his  hand,  and  by  his  side  a  small  child  wrapped 
in  a  shawl.  With  relief  Dan  saw  that  Poniotow- 
sky  was  absent  from  the  party. 

Cohen  opened  the  box,  took  its  contents  out 
and  held  up  the  jewels.  "This,"  he  said,  indi- 
cating a  string  of  pearls,  "is  all  right,  Miss 
Lane,  and  the  ear-drops.  The  rest  is  no  good. 
I'll  take  or  leave  them,  as  you  like." 

She  was  plainly  annoyed  and  excited,  and,  as 
Higgins  tried  to  lace  her,  moved  from  her  dress- 
ing-table to  the  sofa  in  a  state  of  agitation. 

"Take  them  or  leave  them,  as  you  like,"  she 
said,  "but  give  me  the  money  and  go." 

The  Jew  took  from  his  wallet  a  roll  of  bank- 
notes and  counted  them. 
139 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

"Six,"  he  began,  but  she  waved  him  back. 

"Don't  tell  me  how  much  it  is.  I  don't  want 
to  know." 

"Let  the  other  lady  count  it,"  the  Jew  said. 
<fl  don't  do  business  that  way." 

Dan,  who  had  laid  down  his  overcoat  and  hat 
on  a  chair,  came  quietly  forward,  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  and  standing  in  front  of  the 
Jew,  he  said  again : 

"Now  you  look  here — " 

Letty  Lane  threw  the  money  down  on  the 
dressing-table.  "Please,"  she  cried  to  Dan,  "let 
me  have  the  pleasure  of  sending  this  man  out  of 
my  room.  You  can  go,  Cohen,  and  go  in  a 
hurry,  too." 

The  Jew  stuffed  the  pearls  in  his  pocket  and 
went  by  Dan  hurriedly,  as  though  he  feared  the 
young  man  intended  to  help  him.  But  Dan 
stopped  him : 

"Before  this  deal  goes  through  I  want  you  to 
tell  me  why  you  are — " 

Miss  Lane  broke  in :  "My  gracious  Heavens ! 
140 


THE   FACE    OF   LETTY   LANE 

Can't  I  even  sell  my  jewels  without  being 
bossed?  What  business  is  it  of  yours,  Mr. 
Blair?  Let  this  man  go,  and  go  all  of  you — 
all  of  you.  Higgins,  send  them  out." 

The  blind  man  and  the  child  stirred,  too,  at 
this  outburst.  The  little  girl  wore  a  miserable 
hat,  a  wreck  of  a  hat,  in  which  shook  a  feather 
like  a  broken  mast.  The  rest  of  her  garments 
seemed  made  of  the  elements — of  dirt  and  mud — 
mere  flags  of  distress,  and  the  odor  of  the  poor 
filled  the  room :  over  the  perfume  and  scent  and 
smell  of  stage  properties,  this  miserable  smell 
held  its  own. 

"Come,  Daddy,"  whispered  the  child  timidly, 
"come  along." 

"Oh,  no,  not  you,  not  you,"  Letty  Lane  said. 

Job  Cohen  crawled  out  with  ten  thousand 
pounds'  worth  of  pearls  in  his  pockets,  and  as 
soon  as  the  door  had  closed  the  actress  took  up 
the  roll  of  notes. 

"Come  here,"  she  said  to  the  child.  "Now 
you  can  take  your  father  to  the  home  I  told  you 
141 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

of.  It  is  nice  and  comfortable — they  will  treat 
his  eyes  there." 

"Miss  Lane — Miss  Lane!"  called  the  page 
boy. 

"Never  mind  that,"  said  the  actress,  "it  is  a 
long  wait  this  act.  I  don't  go  on  yet." 

Higgins  went  to  the  door  and  opened  it  and 
stood  a  moment,  then  disappeared  into  the  side 
scenes. 

Letty  Lane  ruffled  the  pile  of  bank-notes  and 
without  looking  drew  out  two  or  three  bills,  put- 
ting them  into  the  child's  hands.  "Don't  you 
lose  them ;  stuff  them  down ;  this  will  keep  you 
and  your  father  for  a  couple  of  years.  Take 
care  of  it.  You  are  quite  rich  now.  Don't  get 
robbed." 

The  child  tremblingly  folded  the  notes  and 
hid  them  among  her  rags.  The  tears  of  hap- 
piness were  straggling  over  her  face.  She  said 
finally,  finding  no  place  to  stow  away  her  riches, 
"I  expect  I'd  best  put  them  in  daddy's  pocket." 

rAad  Dan  came  to  her  aid;  taking  the  notes 


THE    FACE    OF   LETTY   LANE 

from  her,  he  folded  and  put  them  inside  the 
clothes  of  the  old  beggar. 

"Miss  Lane,"  said  Higgins,  who  had  come  in, 
"it  is  time  you  went  on." 

"I'll  see  your  friends  out  of  the  theater," 
Blair  offered.  And  as  he  did  so,  for  the  first 
time  she  looked  at  him,  and  he  saw  the  fever  in 
her  brilliant  eyes. 

"Thanks  awfully,"  she  accepted.  "It  is  per- 
fectly crazy  to  give  them  so  much  money  at 
once.  Will  you  look  after  it  like  a  good  boy  and 
see  something  or  other  about  them?" 

He  thought  of  her,  however,  and  caught  up 
a  great  soft  shawl  from  the  chair,  wrapped  it 
around  her  tenderly,  and  she  flitted  out,  Hig- 
gins after  her,  leaving  the  rest  of  the  money 
scattered  on  her  dressing-table. 

"Come  along,"  said  Blair  kindly  to  the  two 
who  stood  awaiting  his  orders  with  the  docility 
of  the  poor,  the  obedience  of  those  who  have  no 
right  to  plan  or  suggest  until  told  to  move  on. 
"Come,  I'll  see  you  home."  And  he  didn't  leave 
143 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

them  until  he  had  taken  them  in  a  cab  to  their 
destination — until  he  had  persuaded  the  girl  to 
let  him  have  the  money,  look  after  it  for  her, 
come  to  see  her  the  next  day  and  tell  her  what 
to  do. 

Then  he  went  back  to  the  theater  and  stood 
up  in  the  rear,  for  the  house  was  crowded,  to 
hear  Letty  sing.  It  was  souvenir  night ;  there 
were  post-cards  and  little  coral  caps  with  feathers 
as  bonbonnieres.  They  called  her  out  before  the 
curtain  a  dozen  times,  and  each  time  Dan  wanted 
to  cry  "Mercy"  for  her.  He  felt  as  though 
this  little  act  had  established  a  friendship  be- 
tween them;  and  his  hands  clenched  as  he 
thought  of  Poniotowsky,  and  he  tried  to  recall 
that  he  was  an  engaged  man.  He  had  an  idea 
that  Letty  Lane  was  looking  for  him  through 
the  performance.  She  finished  in  a  storm  of  ap- 
plause, and  flowers  were  strewn  upon  her,  and 
Dan  found  himself,  in  spite  of  his  resolution, 
going  back  into  the  wings. 

This  time  two  or  three  cards  were  sent  in. 
144. 


THE    FACE    OF   LETTY   LANE 

One  by  one  he  saw  the  visitors  refused,  and  Dan, 
without  any  formality,  himself  knocked  at  Letty 
Lane's  small  door,  which  Higgins  opened,  looked 
back  over  her  shoulder  to  give  his  name  to  her 
mistress,  and  said  to  Dan  confidently,  "Wait, 
sir;  just  wait  a  bit."  Her  lips  were  affable.  And 
in  a  few  moments,  to  Dan's  astonished  delight, 
the  actress  herself  appeared,  a  big  scarf  over 
her  head  and  her  body  enveloped  in  her  snowy 
cloak,  and  he  understood  with  a  leap  of  his  heart 
that  she  had  singled  him  out  to  take  her  home. 
She  went  before  him  through  the  wings  to  the 
stage  entrance,  which  he  opened  for  her,  and  she 
passed  out  before  him  into  the  fog  and  the  mist. 
For  the  first  time  Blair  followed  her  through  the 
crowd,  which  was  a  big  one  on  this  night.  On 
the  one  side  waited  the  poor,  who  wished  her 
many  blessings,  and  on  the  other  side  her  ad- 
mirers, whose  thoughts  were  quite  different. 
Something  of  this  flashed  through  Dan's  mind, 
— and  in  that  moment  he  touched  the  serious  part 
of  life  for  the  first  time. 

145 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

In  Letty  Lane's  motor,  the  small  electric  light 
lit  over  their  heads  and  the  flower  vase  empty, 
he  sat  beside  the  fragrant  human  creature  whom 
London  adored,  and  knew  his  place  would  have 
been  envied  by  many  a  man. 

"I  took  your  friends  to  their  place  all  right," 
he  told  her,  "and  I'm  going  to  see  them  myself 
to-morrow.  I  advised  the  girl  not  to  get  mar- 
ried for  her  money.  Say,  this  is  awfully  nice 
of  you  to  let  me  take  you  home !" 

She  seemed  small  in  her  corner.  "You  were 
great  to-night,"  Dan  went  on,  "simply  great! 
Wasn't  the  crowd  crazy  about  you,  though! 
How  does  it  feel  to  stand  there  and  hear  them 
clap  like  a  thunderstorm  and  call  your  name?" 

She  replied  with  effort.  "It  was  a  nice  audi- 
ence, wasn't  it?  Oh,  I  don't  know  how  it  feels. 
It  is  rather  stimulating.  How's  the  other  boy  ?" 
she  asked  abruptly,  and  when  Dan  had  said  that 
Ruggles  had  left  him  alone  in  London,  she 
turned  and  laughed  a  little. 

Dan  asked  her  why  she  had  sent  for  him  to- 
146 


THE    FACE    OF   LETTY   LANE 

day.  "I'm  mighty  sorry  I  was  out  of  town,"  he 
said  warmly.  "Just  to  think  you  should  have 
wanted  me  to  do  something  for  you  and  I  didn't 
turn  up.  You  know  I  would  be  glad  to  do  any- 
thing. What  was  it?  Won't  you  tell  me  what 
it  was?" 

"The  Jew  did  it  for  me." 

And  Dan  exclaimed :  "It  made  me  simply  sicK 
to  see  that  animal  in  your  room.  I  would  have 
kicked  him  out  if  I  hadn't  thought  that  it  would 
make  an  unpleasant  scene  for  you.  We  have 
passed  the  Savoy."  He  looked  out  of  the  win- 
dow, and  Letty  Lane  replied: 

"I  told  the  driver  to  go  to  the  Carlton  first." 

She  was  taking  him  home  then ! 

icWell,  you've  got  to  come  in  and  have  some 
supper  with  me  in  that  case,"  he  cried  eagerly, 
and  she  told  him  that  she  had  taken  him  home 
because  she  knew  that  Mr.  Ruggles  would  ap- 
prove. 

"Not  much  you  won't,"  he  said,  and  put  his 
hand  on  the  speaking  tube,  but  she  stopped  him. 
147 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

"Don't  give  any  orders  in  my  motor,  Mr. 
Blair.  You  sit  still  where  you  are." 

"Do  you  think  that  I  am  such  a  simple  youth 
that  I—" 

Letty  Lane  with  a  gesture  of  supreme  ennui 
said  to  him  impatiently : 

"Oh,  I  just  think  I  am  pretty  nearly  tired  to 
death;  don't  bother  me.  I  want  my  own  way." 

Her  voice  and  her  gesture,  her  beauty  and  her 
indifference,  her  sort  of  vague  lack  of  interest 
in  him  and  in  everything,  put  the  boy,  full  of 
life  as  he  was,  out  of  ease,  but  he  ventured,  after 
a  second: 

"Won't  you  please  tell  me  what  you  wanted 
me  to  do  this  afternoon?" 

"Why,  I  was  hard  up,  that's  all.  I  have  used 
all  my  salary  for  two  months  and  I  couldn't 
pay  my  bill  at  the  Savoy." 

"Lord!"  he  said  fervently,  "why  didn't 
you—" 

"I  did.  Like  a  fool  I  sent  for  you  the  first 
148 


THE    FACE    OF   LETTY   LANE 

thing,  but  I  was  awfully  glad  when  five  o'clock 
came  you  didn't  turn  up.  Please  don't  bother  or 
speak  of  it  again." 

And  burning  with  curiosity  as  to  what  part 
Poniotowsky  played  in  her  life,  Dan  sat  quiet, 
not  venturing  to  put  to  her  any  more  questions. 
She  seemed  so  tired  and  so  overcome  by  her  own 
thoughts.  When  they  had  turned  down  toward 
the  hotel,  however,  he  decided  that  he  must  in 
honor  tell  her  his  news. 

"Got  some  news  to  tell  you,"  he  exclaimed 
abruptly.  "Want  you  to  congratulate  me.  I'm 
engaged  to  be  married  to  the  Duchess  of  Break- 
water. She  happens  to  be  a  great  admirer  of 
your  voice." 

The  actress  turned  sharply  to  him  and  in  the 
dark  He  could  see  her  little,  white  'face.  The 
covering  over  her  head  fell  back  and  sHe  ex- 
claimed: 

"Heavens !"  and  impulsively  put  her  hands 
out  over  his.  "Do  you  really  mean  what  you 


say?" 


149 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

"Yes."  He  nodded  surprisedly.  "What  do 
you  look  like  that  for?" 

Letty  Lane  arranged  her  scarf  and  then  drew 
back  from  him  and  laughed. 

"Oh,  dear,  dear,  dear,"  she  exclaimed,  "and  I 
.  .  .  and  I  have  been  ..." 

She  looked  up  at  him  swiftly  as  though  she 
fancied  she  might  detect  some  new  quality  in  him 
which  she  had  not  observed  before,  but  she  saw 
only  his  clear,  kind  eyes,  his  charming  smile  and 
his  beautiful,  young  ignorance,  and  said  softly 
to  him : 

"No  use  to  cry,  little  boy,  if  it's  true!  But 
that  woman  isn't  half  good  enough  for  you — not 
half,  and  I  guess  you  think  it  funny  enough  to 
hear  me  say  so !  What  does  the  other  boy  from 
Montana  say?" 

"Don't  know,"  Dan  answered  indifferently. 
"Marconied  him ;  didn't  tell  him  about  it  before 
he  left.  You  see  he  doesn't  understand  England 
—doesn't  like  it." 

A  little  dazed  by  the  way  each  of  the  two 
150 


THE    FACE    OF   LETTY   LANE 

women  took  tHe  mention  of  the  other,  he  asked 
timidly : 

"You  don't  like  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater, 
then?"  i 

And  she  laughed  again. 

"Goodness  gracious,  I  don't  know  her;  ac- 
tresses don't  sit  around  with  duchesses."  Then 
abruptly,  her  beautiful  eyes,  under  their  curled 
dark  lashes,  full  on  him,  she  asked: 

"Do  you  like  her?" 

"You  bet!"  he  said  ardently.  "Of  course  I 
do.  I  am  crazy  about  her."  Yet  he  realized,  as 
he  replied,  that  he  didn't  have  any  inclination  to 
begin  to  talk  about  his  fiancee. 

They  had  reached  the  Carlton  and  the  door  of 
Letty  Lane's  motor  was  held  open. 

"Better  get  out,"  he  urged,  "and  have  some- 
thing to  eat." 

And  she,  leaning  a  little  way  toward  him, 
laughed. 

"Crazy!  Your  engagement  would  be  broken 
off  to-morrow."  And  she  further  said:  "If  I 
151 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

really  thought  it  would,  why  I'd  come  like  a 
shot." 

As  she  leaned  forward,  her  cloak  slipping 
from  her  neck,  revealing  her  throat  above  the 
dark  collar  of  the  simple  dress  she  wore,  he  looked 
in  her  dove-gray  eyes,  and  murmured : 

"Oh,  say,  do  come  along  and  risk  it.  I'm 
game,  all  right." 

She  hesitated,  then  bade  him  good  night  lan- 
guidly, slipping  back  into  her  old  attitude  of  in- 
difference. 

"I  am  going  home  to  rest.  Good  night.  I 
don't  think  the  duchess  would  let  you  go,  no 
matter  what  you  did !" 

Dan,  standing  there  at  her  motor  door,  this 
beautiful,  well-known  woman  bantering  him, 
leaning  toward  him,  was  conscious  of  her  alone, 
all  snowy  and  small  and  divine  in  her  enveloping 
scarf,  lost  in  the  corner  of  her  big  car. 

"I  hate  to  have  you  go  back  alone  to  the 
Savoy.  I  really  do.  Please  let  me — " 

But  she  shook  her  head.  "Tell  the  man  the 
152 


THE    FACE    OF    LETTY    LANE 

Savoy,"  and  as  Dan,  carrying  out  her  instruc- 
tions, closed  the  door,  he  said :  "I  don't  like  that 
empty  vase  in  there.  Would  you  be  very  good 
and  put  some  flowers  in  it  if  they  came  ?" 

She  wouldn't  promise,  and  he  went  on : 

"Will  you  put  only  my  flowers  in  that  vase 
always  hereafter?" 

Then,  "Why,  of  course  not,  goose,"  she  said 
shortly.  "Will  you  please  let  me  close  the  door 
and  go  home?" 

Dan  walked  into  the  Carlton  when  her  bright 
motor  had  slipped  away,  his  evening  coat  long 
and  black  flying  its  wings  behind  him,  his  hat  on 
the  back  of  his  blond  head,  light  of  foot  and 
step,  a  gay  young  figure  among  the  late  lin- 
gering crowd. 

He  went  to  his  apartments  and  missed  Ruggles 
in  the  lonely  quiet  of  the  sitting-room,  but  as  the 
night  before  Ruggles  had  done,  Dan  in  his  bed- 
room window  stood  looking  out  at  the  mist  and 
fog  through  which  before  his  eyes  the  things 
'he  had  lately  seen  passed  and  repassed,  specter- 
153 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

like,  winglike,  across  the  gloom.  Finally,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  he  was  an  engaged  man 
with  the  responsibilities  of  marriage  before  him, 
he  could  think  of  but  one  thing  to  take  with 
him  when  he  finally  turned  to  sleep.  The  face 
of  the  woman  he  was  engaged  to  marry  eluded 
him,  but  the  face  under  the  white  hood  of  Letty 
Lane  was  in  his  dreams,  and  in  his  troubled  vi- 
sions he  saw  her  shining,  dovelike  eyes. 


154 


CHAPTER  XIV 

FBOM  INDIA'S  COBAL  STRANDS 

MRS.  HIGGINS,  in  Miss  Lane's  apart- 
ment at  the  Savoy,  was  adjusting  the 
photographs  and  arranging  the  flowers  when 
she  was  surprised  by  a  caller,  who  came  up  with- 
out the  formality  of  sending  his  name. 

"Do  you  think,"  Blair  asked  her,  "that  Miss 
Lane  would  see  me  half  a  minute?  I  called  yes- 
terday, and  the  day  before,  as  soon  as  I  saw  that 
there  was  a  substitute  singing  in  Mandalay. 
Tell  her  I'm  as  full  of  news  as  a  charity  report, 
please,  and  I  rather  guess  that  will  fetch  her." 

Something  fetched  her,  for  in  a  few  minutes 
she  came  languidly  in,  and  by  the  way  she 
smiled  at  her  visitor  it  might  be  thought  Dan 
Blair's  name  alone  had  brought  her  in.  The 
actress  had  been  ill  for  a  fortnight  with  what 
155 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

the  press  notices  said  was  influenza.  She  wore 
a  teagown,  long  and  white  as  foam,  her  hair 
rolled  in  a  soft  knot,  and  her  face  was  pale  as 
death.  Frail  and  small  as  she  was,  she  was 
more  ethereal  than  when  in  perfect  health. 

"Don't  stand  a  minute."  And  by  the  hand 
she  gave  him  Dan  led  her  over  to  the  lounge 
where  the  pillows  were  piled  and  a  fur-lined  silk 
cover  thrown  across  the  sofa. 

"Don't  give  me  that  heavy  rug,  there's  that 
little  white  shawl."  She  pointed  to  it,  and  Dan, 
as  he  gave  it  to  her,  recognized  the  shawl  in 
which  she  wrapped  herself  when  she  crossed  the 
icy  wings. 

"It's  in  those  infernal  side  scenes  you  get 
colds." 

He  sat  down  by  her.  She  began  to  cough  vio- 
lently and  he  asked,  troubled,  "Who's  taking 
care  of  you,  anyway?" 

"Higgins  and  a  couple  of  doctors." 

"That's  all?" 

"Yes.    Why,  who  should  be?" 
166 


FROM    INDIA'S    CORAL    STRANDS 

Dan  didn't  follow  up  his  jealous  suspicion, 
but  asked  in  a  tone  almost  paternal  and  softly 
confidential : 

"How  are  your  finances  getting  on?" 

Her  lips  curved  in  a  friendly  smile.  But  she 
made  a  dismissing  gesture  with  her  frail  little 
hand. 

"Oh,  I'm  all  right ;  Higgins  told  me  you  had 
some  news  about  my  poor  people." 

The  fact  that  she  did  not  take  up  the  financial 
subject  made  him  unpleasantly  sure  that  her 
wants  had  been  supplied. 

"Got  a  whole  bunch  of  news,"  Dan  replied 
cheerfully.  "I  went  to  see  the  old  man  and  the 
girl  in  their  diggings.  Gosh,  you  couldn't  believe 
such  things  were  true." 

She  drew  her  fine  brows  together.  "I  guess 
there  are  a  good  many  things  that  would  sur- 
prise you.  But  you  don't  need  to  tell  me  about 
hard  times.  That's  the  way  I  am.  I'll  do  any- 
thing, give  anything,  so  long  as  I  don't  have  to 
hear  hard  stories."  She  turned  to  him  confiden- 
157 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

tially.  "Perhaps  it's  acting  in  false  scenes  on 
the  stage ;  perhaps  it's  because  I'm  lazy  and  self- 
ish, but  I  can't  bear  to  hear  about  tales  of  woe." 

What  she  said  somewhat  disturbed  his  idea  of 
her  big-hearted  charity. 

"I  don't  believe  you're  lazy  or  selfish,"  he  said 
sincerely,  "but  I've  got  an  idea  that  not  many 
people  really  know  you." 

This  amused  her.  Looking  at  him  quizzically, 
she  laughed.  "I  expect  you  think  you  do." 

Dan  answered :  "Well,  I  guess  the  people  that 
see  you  when  you  are  a  kid,  who  come  from  your 
own  part  of  the  country,  have  a  sort  of  friend- 
ship." And  the  girl  on  the  sofa  from  the  depths 
of  her  shawl  put  out  a  thin  little  hand  to  him  and 
said  in  a  voice  as  lovely  in  tone  as  when  she  sang 
in  Mandalay: 

"Well,  I  guess  that's  right!  I  guess  that's 
about  true." 

After  the  tenth  of  a  second,  in  which  she 
thought  best  to  take  her  little  cold  hand  away 
from  those  big  warm  ones,  she  asked : 
158 


FROM   INDIA'S    CORAL    STRANDS 

"Now  please  do  tell  me  about  the  poor  peo- 
ple." 

In  this  way  giving  him  to  understand  how 
really  true  his  better  idea  of  her  had  been. 

"Why,  the  old  duffer  is  as  happy  as  a  house 
afire,"  said  the  boy.  "Not  to  boast,  I've  done 
the  whole  thing  up  as  well  as  I  knew  how.  I've 
got  him  into  that  health  resort  you  spoke  of,  and 
the  girl  seems  to  have  got  a  regular  education 
vice!  She  wants  to  study  something,  so  she's 
going  to  school." 

"Go  on  talking,"  the  actress  invited  languid- 
ly. "I  love  to  hear  you  talk  Montana!  Don't 
change  your  twang  for  this  beastly  English 
drawl,  whatever  you  do." 

"You  have,  though,  Miss  Lane.  I  don't  hear 
a  thing  of  Blairtown  in  the  way  you  speak." 

And  the  girl  said  passionately:  "I  wish  to 
God  I  spoke  it  right  through!  I  wish  I  had 
never  changed  my  speech  or  anything  in  me  that 
was  like  home." 

And  the  boy  leaning  forward  as  eagerly  ex- 
159 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

claimed:  "Oh,  do  you  mean  that?  Think  how 
crazy  London  is  about  you !  Why,  if  you  ever 
go  back  to  Montana,  they  will  carry  you  from 
the  cars  in  a  triumphal  chair  through  the  town." 

She  waited  until  she  could  control  the  emotion 
in  her  voice. 

"Go  on  telling  me  about  the  little  girl." 

"She  was  so  trusting  as  to  give  the  money  up 
to  me  and  I  guess  it  will  draw  interest  for  her 
all  right." 

"Thank  you,"  smiled  the  actress,  "you  are 
terribly  sweet.  The  child  got  Higgins  to  let  her 
into  my  dressing-room  one  day  after  a  matinee. 
I  haven't  time  to  see  anybody  except  then." 

Here  Higgins  made  her  appearance  in  the 
room,  with  an  egg-nog  for  her  lady,  which,  after 
much  coaxing,  Dan  succeeded  in  getting  the 
actress  to  drink.  Higgins  also  had  taken  away 
the  flowers,  and  Letty  Lane  said  to  Dan : 

"I  send  them  to  the  hospital ;  they  make  me 
sick."  And  Dan  timidly  asked : 

"Mine,  too?" 

160 


FROM   INDIA'S    CORAL    STRANDS 

This  brought  a  flush  across  the  ivory  pallor 
of  her  cheek.  "No,  no,  Higgins  keeps  them  in 
the  next  room."  And  with  an  abrupt  change  of 
subject  she  asked:  "Is  the  Duchess  of  Break- 
water very  charitable?"  And  Blair  quickly  re- 
plied : 

"Anyhow  she  wants  you  to  sing  for  her  at  a 
musicale  in  Park  Lane  when  you're  fit." 

Miss  Lane  gave  a  soft  little  giggle.  "Is  that 
what  you  call  being  charitable?" 

Dan  blushed  crimson  and  exclaimed:  "Well, 
hardly!" 

"Did  you  come  here  to  ask  me  that?" 

**I  came  to  tell  you  about  'our  mutual  poor.' 
You'll  let  me  call  them  that,  won't  you,  because 
I  happened  to  be  in  your  dressing-room  when 
they  struck  their  vein  ?" 

Miss  Lane  had  drawn  herself  up  in  the  cor- 
ner of  the  sofa,  and  sat  with  her  hands  clasped 
around  her  knees,  all  swathed  around  and  draped 
by  the  knitted  shawl,  her  golden  head  like  a 
radiant  flower,  appearing  from  a  bank  of  snow. 
161 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

Her  fragility,  her  sweetness,  her  sraallness,  ap- 
pealed strongly  to  the  big  young  fellow,  whose 
heart  was  warm  toward  the  world,  whose  ideals 
were  high,  and  who  had  the  chivalrous  longing 
inherent  in  all  good  men  to  succor,  to  protect, 
and  above  all  to  adore.  No  feeling  in  Dan  Blair 
had  been  as  strong  as  this,  to  take  her  in  his 
arms,  to  lift  her  up  and  carry  her  away  from 
London  and  the  people  who  applauded  her,  from 
the  people  that  criticized  her,  and  from  Ponio- 
towsky. 

He  was  engaged  to  the  Duchess  of  Break- 
water. And  as  far  as  his  being  able  to  do  any- 
thing for  Letty  Lane,  he  could  only  offer  her  this 
politeness  from  the  woman  he  was  going  to 
marry. 

"I  never  sing  out  of  the  theater."  Her  pro- 
file was  to  him  and  she  looked  steadily  across  the 
room.  "It's  a  perfect  fight  to  get  the  manager 
to  consent." 

Blair  interrupted  and  said :  "Oh,  I'll  see  him ; 
I'll  make  it  all  right." 


FROM   INDIA'S    CORAL    STRANDS 

"Please  don't,"  she  said  briskly,  "it's  purely  a 
business  affair.  How  much  will  she  pay  ?" 

Dan  was  rather  shocked.  "Anything  you 
like." 

And  her  bad  humor  faded  at  his  tone,  and  she 
smiled  at  him.  "Well,  I'll  tell  Roach  that.  I 
guess  it'll  make  my  singing  a  sure  thing." 

She  changed  her  position  and  drew  a  long 
sigh  as  though  she  were  very  tired,  leaned  her 
blond  head  with  its  soft  disorder  back  on  the 
pillow,  put  both  her  folded  hands  under  her 
cheek  and  turned  her  face  toward  Dan.  The 
most  delicate  coral-like  color  began  to  mount 
her  cheeks,  and  her  gray  eyes  regained  their 
light. 

"Will  two  thousand  dollars  be  too  much  to 
ask?"  she  said  gently. 

If  she  had  said  two  million  to  the  young  fel- 
low who  had  not  yet  begun  to  spend  his  fortune, 
which  as  far  as  he  was  concerned  was  nothing 
but  a  name,  it  would  not  have  been  too  much  to 
him;  not  too  much  to  have  given  to  this  small 
163 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

white  creature  with  her  lovely  flushed  face,  and 
her  glorious  hair. 

"Whatever  is  your  price,  Miss  Lane,  goes." 
"I'll  sing  three  songs :  one  from  Mandalay,  an 
English  ballad  and  something  or  other,  I  don't 
know  what  now,  and  I  expect  you  don't  realize 
how  cheaply  you  are  getting  them."  She 
laughed,  and  began  to  hum  a  familiar  air. 

"I  wish  you  would  sing  just  one  song  for  me." 
"For  another  thousand?"  she  asked,  lifting 
her  eyebrows.    "What  song  is  it?" 

And  as  Dan  hesitated,  as  if  unwilling  to  give 
form  to  words  that  were  so  full  of  spell  to  him, 
she  said  deliciously :  "Why,  can  you  see  a  Lon- 
don drawing-room  listening  to  me  sing  a  Pres- 
byterian hymn  tune?"  Without  lifting  her  head 
from  the  pillow  she  began  in  a  charming  under- 
tone, her  gray  eyes  fixed  on  his : 

"From  Greenland's  icy  mountains, 

Prom  India's  coral  strands, 
Where  Afric's  sunny  fountains 
Roll  down  thpir  golden  sands." 


FROM   INDIA'S    CORAL    STRANDS 

Blair,  near  her,  turned  pale.  There  rose  in 
him  the  same  feeling  that  she  had  stirred  years 
ago  in  the  little  church,  and  at  the  same  time 
others.  He  had  lost  his  father  since  then,  and  he 
thought  of  him  now,  but  that  big,  sad  emotion 
was  not  the  one  that  swayed  him. 

"Please  stop,"  he  pleaded ;  "don't  go  on.  Say, 
there's  something  in  that  hymn  that  hurts." 

Letty  Lane,  unconscious  of  how  subtly  she 
was  playing,  laughed,  and  suddenly  remembered 
that  Dan  had  sat  before  her  that  day  by  the 
side  of  old  Mr.  Blair.  She  asked  abruptly : 

"Why  does  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater  want 
me  to  sing?" 

"Because  she's  crazy  about  your  voice." 

"Is  she  awfully  rich?" 

"Urn     .     .     .     I  don't  know." 

Letty  Lane  flashed  a  look  at  him.  "Oh,"  she 
said  coolly,  "I  guess  she  won't  pay  the  price 
then." 

Dan  said:  "Yes,  she  will;  yes,  she  will,  all 
right." 

165 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

"Now,"  Letty  Lane  went  on,  "if  it  were  a 
charity  affair,  I  could  sing  for  nothing,  and  I 
don't  doubt  the  duchess,  if  she  is  as  benevolent 
as  you  say  she  is,  could  get  me  up  some  kind  of 
a  charity  show." 

Dan,  who  had  started  to  rise,  now  leaned  to- 
ward her  and  said:  "Don't  you  worry  about  it 
a  bit.  If  you'll  come  and  sing  we  will  make  it 
right  about  the  price  and  the  charity;  every- 
thing shall  go  your  way." 

She  was  seized  upon  by  a  violent  fit  of  cough- 
ing, and  Dan  leaned  toward  her  and  put  his  arm 
around  her  as  a  brother  might  have  done,  hold- 
ing her  tenderly  until  the  paroxysm  was  past. 

"Gosh!"  he  exclaimed  fervently,  "it's  heart- 
breaking to  hear  you  cough  like  that  and  to 
think  of  your  working  as  you  do.  Can't  you 
stop  and  take  a  good  rest?  Can't  you  go  some- 
where?" 

"To  Greenland's  icy  mountains?"  she  re- 
sponded, smiling.  "I  hate  the  cold." 

"No,  no;  to  some  golden  sands  or  other,"  he 
166 


FROM    INDIA'S    CORAL    STRANDS 

murmured  under  his  breath.     "And  let  me  take 
you  there." 

But  she  pushed  him  back,  laughing  now.  "No 
golden  sands  for  me.  I'm  afraid  I've  got  to 
sing  in  Mandalay  to-night." 

He  looked  at  her  in  dismay. 

She  interrupted  his  protest:  "I've  promised 
on  my  word  of  honor,  and  the  box-office  has  sold 
the  seats  with  that  understanding." 

By  her  sofa,  leaning  over  her,  in  a  choked 
voice  he  murmured: 

"You  shan't  sing!  You  shan't  go  out  to- 
night !" 

"Don't  be  a  goose,  boy,"  she  said.  "You've 
no  right  to  order  me  like  that.  Stand  back, 
please."  As  he  did  so  she  whisked  herself  off 
the  sofa  with  a  sudden  ardor  and  much  grace. 
"Now,"  she  told  him  severely,  "since  you've  be- 
gun to  take  that  tone  with  me,  I'm  going  to  tell 
you  that  you  mustn't  come  here  day  after  day 
as  you  have  been  doing.  I  guess  you  know  it, 
don't  you?" 

167 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

He  stood  his  ground,  but  his  bright  face 
clouded.  They  had  been  so  near  each  other  and 
were  now  so  removed. 

"I  don't  care  a  damn  what  people  say,"  he  re- 
plied. 

She  interrupted  him.  She  could  be  wonder- 
fully dignified,  small  as  she  was,  wrapped  as  she 
was  in  the  woollen  shawl.  "Well,"  she  drawled 
with  a  sudden  indolence  and  indifference  in  her 
voice,  "I  expect  you'll  be  surprised  to  hear  that 
7  do  care.  Sounds  awfully  funny,  doesn't  it? 
But  as  you  have  been  coming  to  the  theater  now 
night  after  night  till  everybody's  talking  about 
it—" 

"You  don't  want  my  friendship,"  he  stam- 
mered. 

And  Letty  Lane  controlled  her  desire  to  laugh 
at  his  boyish  subterfuge.  "No,  I  don't  think  I 
do." 

Her  tone  struck  him  deeply :  hurt  him  terri- 
bly. He  threw  his  head  up  defiantly. 

"All  right,  I'm  turned  down  then,"  he  said 
168 


FROM   INDIA'S    CORAL    STRANDS 

simply.  "I  didn't  think  you'd  act  like  this  to  a 
boy  you'd  known  all  your  life !" 

"Don't  be  silly,  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that 
it  won't  do." 

He  did  know  it  and  that  he  had  already  done 
enough  to  make  it  reasonable  for  the  duchess,  if 
she  wanted  to,  to  break  their  engagement.  Slow- 
ly preparing  to  take  his  leave,  he  said  wistfully : 
"Can't  I  help  you  in  any  way?  Let  me  do  some- 
thing with  you  for  your  poor.  It's  a  comfort  to 
have  them  between  us,  and  you  can  count  on  me." 

She  said  she  knew  it.  "But  don't  come  any 
more  to  the  wings ;  get  a  habit  of  not  coming." 

On  the  threshold  of  her  door  he  asked  her  to 
let  him  know  when  she  would  sing  in  Park  Lane, 
and  in  touching  her  hand  he  repeated  that  she 
must  count  on  him.  With  more  tenderness  in  his 
blue  eyes  than  he  was  himself  aware,  he  mur- 
mured devotedly : 

"Take  care  of  yourself,  won't  you,  please?" 

As  Blair  passed  from  the  sitting-room  into 
the  hall  and  toward  the  lift,  Mrs.  Higgins 
169 


.      THE    GIRL   FROM    HIS    TOWN 

came  out  hurriedly  from  one  of  the  rooms  and 
joined  him. 

"How  did  you  find  her,  Mr.  Blair?" 

"Awfully  seedy,  Mrs.  Higgins;  she  needs  a 
lot  of  care." 

"She  won't  take  it  though,"  returned  the 
woman.  "Just  seems  to  let  herself  go,  not  to 
mind  a  bit,  especially  these  last  weeks.  I'm  glad 
you  came  in ;  I've  been  hoping  you  would,  sir." 

"I'm  not  any  good  though,  she  won't  listen 
to  a  word  I  say." 

It  seemed  to  surprise  the  dressing  woman. 

"I'm  sorry  to  hear  it,  sir ;  I  thought  she  would. 
She  talks  about  you  often." 

He  colored  like  a  school-boy.  "Gosh,  it's  a 
shame  to  have  her  kill  herself  for  nothing."  Re- 
luctant to  talk  longer  with  Mrs.  Higgins,  he 
added  in  spite  of  himself :  "She  seems  so  lonely." 

"It's  two  weeks  now  since  that  human  devil 

went  away,"  Mrs.  Higgins  said  unexpectedly, 

looking  quietly  into  the  blue  eyes  of  the  visitor. 

"She  hasn't  opened  one  of  his  letters  or  his  tele- 

170 


FROM   INDIA'S    CORAL    STRANDS 

grams.  She  has  sold  every  pin  and  brooch  he 
ever  gave  her,  scattered  the  money  far  and  wide. 
You  saw  how  she  went  on  with  Cohen,  and  her 
pearls." 

Dan  heard  her  as  through  a  dream.  Her  words 
gave  form  and  existence  to  a  dreadful  thing  he 
had  been  trying  to  deny. 

"Is  she  hard  up  now,  Mrs.  Higgins?"  he 
asked  softly.  And  glancing  at  him  to  see  just 
how  far  she  might  go,  the  woman  said : 

"An  actress  who  spends  and  lives  as  Miss 
Lane  does  is  always  hard  up." 

"Could  you  use  money  without  her  knowing 
about  it?" 

"Lord,"  exclaimed  the  woman,  "it  wouldn't  be 
hard,  sir!  She  only  knows  that  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  money  when  the  bills  come  and  she 
hasn't  got  a  penny.  Or  when  the  poor  come! 
She's  got  a  heart  of  gold,  sir,  for  everybody  that 
is  in  need." 

He  took  out  of  his  wallet  a  wad  of  notes  and 
put  them  in  Higgins'  hands.     "Just  pay  up 
171 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

some  bills  on  the  sly,  and  don't  you  tell  her  on 
your  life.  I  don't  want  her  to  be  worried."  Ex- 
plaining with  sensitive  understanding:  "It's  all 
right,  Mrs.  Higgins ;  I'm  from  her  town,  you 
know."  And  the  woman  who  admired  him  and 
understood  him,  and  whose  life  had  made  her 
keen  to  read  things  as  they  were,  said  earnestly : 

"I  quite  understand  how  it  is,  sir.  It  is  just 
as  though  it  came  straight  from  'ome.  She  over- 
draws her  salary  months  ahead." 

"Have  you  been  with  Miss  Lane  long?" 

"Ever  since  she  toured  in  Europe,  and  nobody 
could  serve  her  without  being  very  fond  of  her 
indeed." 

Dan  put  out  his  big  warm  hand  eagerly. 
"You're  a  corker,  Mrs.  Higgins." 

"I  could  walk  around  the  world  for  her,  sir." 

"Go  ahead  and  do  it  then,"  he  smiled,  "and 
I'll  pay  for  all  the  boot  leather  you  wear  out !" 

As  he  went  down-stairs,  already  too  late  to 
keep  an  engagement  made  with  his  fiancee,  he 
stopped  in  the  writing-room  to  scribble  off  a  note 
172 


FROM   INDIA'S  CORAL  STRANDS 

of  excuse  to  the  duchess.  At  the  opposite  table 
Dan  saw  Prince  Poniotowsky,  writing,  as  well. 
The  Hungarian  did  not  see  Blair,  and  when  he 
had  finished  his  note  he  called  a  page  boy  and 
Dan  could  hear  him  send  his  letter  up  to  Miss 
Lane's  suite.  The  young  Westerner  thought 
with  confident  exaltation,  "Well,  he'll  get  left 
all  right,  and  I'm  darned  if  I  don't  sit  here  and 
see  him  turned  down !" 

Dan  sat  on  until  the  page  returned  and  gave 
Poniotowsky  a  verbal  message. 

"Will  you  please  come  up-stairs,  sir?" 
And  Blair  saw  the  Hungarian  rise,  adjust  his 
eye-glass,  and  walk  toward  the  lift. 


173 


CHAPTER  XV 

GAIX)EEY    GIVES    ADVICE 

LORD  GALOREY  had  long  been  used  to 
seeing  things  go  the  way  they  would  and 
should  not,  and  his  greatest  effort  had  been  at- 
tained on  the  day  he  gave  his  languid  body  the 
trouble  to  go  in  and  see  Ruggles. 

"My  God,"  he  muttered  as  he  watched  Dan 
and  the  duchess  on  the  terrace  together — they 
were  nevertheless  undeniably  a  handsome  pair 
— "to  think  that  this  is  the  way  I  am  returning 
old  Blair's  hospitality!"  And  he  was  ashamed 
to  recall  his  western  experiences,  when  in  a 
shack  in  the  mountains  he  had  watched  the  big 
stars  come  out  in  the  heavens  and  sat  late  with 
old  Dan  Blair,  delighted  with  the  simple  philos- 
ophies and  the  man's  high  ideals. 
174. 


GALOREY   GIVES   ADVICE 

"What  the  devil  does  it  all  mean?"  he  won- 
dered. "She  has  simply  seduced  him,  that's  all." 

He  got  Dan  finally  to  himself  and  without 
any  preparation  began,  pushing  Dan  back  into 
a  big  leather  chair,  and  standing  up  like  a  judge 
over  him : 

"Now,  you  really  must  listen  to  me,  my  dear 
chap.  I  shan't  rest  in  my  grave  unless  I  get  a 
word  with  you.  Your  father  sent  you  here  to 
me  and  I'm  damned  if  I  know  what  for.  I've 
been  wondering  every  day  about  it  for  two 
months.  He  didn't  know  what  this  set  was  like 
or  how  rotten  it  is." 

"What  set?"  The  boy  looked  appallingly 
young  as  Gordon  stared  down  at  him.  There 
wasn't  a  line  or  wrinkle  on  his  smooth  brow  or  on 
his  lips  and  forehead  finely  cut  and  well  molded 
— but  there  were  the  very  seals  of  what  his  fa- 
ther would  have  been  glad  to  see.  The  boy  had 
the  same  clear  look  and  unspoiled  frankness  that 
had  charmed  Galorey  at  the  first.  He  had  been 
a  lazy  coward  to  delay  so  long. 
175 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

"Why,  the  rottenness  of  this  set  right  here  in 
my  house."  And  as  the  host  began  to  see  that 
he  should  have  to  approach  a  woman's  name  in 
speaking,  he  stopped  short,  his  mouth  wide  open, 
and  Dan  thought  he  had  been  drinking. 

"You  are  talking  of  marrying  Lily,"  Gordon 
got  out. 

"I  am  going  to  marry  her." 

"You  mustn't." 

Blair  got  up  out  of  his  chair.  It  didn't  need 
this  attack  of  Galorey's  to  bring  to  his  mind 
hints  that  had  been  dropped  that  Galorey  was  in 
love  with  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater.  It  illumi- 
nated what  Galorey  was  saying  fast  and  incohe- 
rently. 

"I  mean  to  say,  my  dear  chap,  that  you 
mustn't  marry  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater. 
Look  at  most  of  these  European  marriages. 
They  all  go  to  smash.  She  is  older  than  you  are 
and  she  has  lived  her  life.  You  are  much  too 
young." 

"Hold  up,  Galorey;  you  mustn't  go  on,  you 
176 


GALOREY   GIVES    ADVICE 

know.  You  know  I  am  engaged ;  that's  all  there 
is  about  it.  Now,  let's  go  and  have  a  game  of 
pool." 

Galorey  had  not  worked  himself  up  to  this 
pitch  to  break  off  now  at  a  fatal  point. 

"I'm  responsible  for  this,  and  by  gad,  Dan, 
I'm  going  to  put  you  on  your  guard." 

"You  are  responsible  for  nothing,  Galorey, 
and  I  warn  you  to  drop  it." 

"You  would  listen  to  your  father  if  he  were 
here,  wouldn't  you  ?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  the  boy  slowly.  Then 
followed  up  with  an  honest,  "Yes,  I  would." 

Gordon  caught  eagerly,  "Well,  he  sent  you  to 
me.  Your  friend  Ruggles  has  gone  off  and 
washed  his  hands  of  you,  but  I  can't." 

Lord  Galorey  walked  across  the  room  briskly 
and  came  back  to  Dan.  "First  of  all,  you  are 
not  in  love  with  Lily — not  a  bit  of  it.  You 
couldn't  be — and  what's  more  she  is  not  in  love 
with  you." 

Blair  laughed  coolly.  "You  certainly  have 
177 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

got  things  down  to  a  fine  point,  Gordon.    I'll  be 
hanged  if  I  understand  your  game." 

Galorey  went  bravely  on :  "Therefore,  if  nei- 
ther of  you  are  in  love,  you  understand  that 
there  is  nothing  between  you  but  your  money." 

The  Englishman  got  his  point  out  brutally, 
relieved  that  the  impersonal  thing  money  opened 
a  way  for  him.  He  didn't  want  to  be  the  bound- 
er and  the  cad  that  the  mention  of  the  woman 
would  have  made  him. 

The  boy  drew  in  an  angry  breath.  "Gosh," 
he  said,  "that  cursed  money  will  make  me  crazy 
yet !  You  are  not  very  flattering  to  me,  Gordon, 
I  swear,  and  Lily  wouldn't  thank  you  for  the 
motives  you  impute  to  her." 

"Oh,  rot!"  returned  Gordon  more  tranquilly. 
"She  hasn't  got  a  human  sentiment  in  her.  She's 
a  rock  with  a  woman's  face." 

Dan  turned  his  back  on  his  host  and  walked 
off  into  the  billiard-room.  Galorey  promptly  fol- 
lowed him,  took  down  a  cue  and  chalked  it,  and 
said: 

178 


GALOREY   GIVES    ADVICE 

"Well,  come  now;  let's  put  it  to  the  test." 
Blair  began  stacking  the  balls. 

"How  do  you  mean?" 

"Well,  when  you  have  had  time  to  get  your 
first  news  over  from  Ruggles,  tell  her  you  have 
gone  to  smash  and  that  you  are  a  pauper." 

"I  don't  play  tricks  like  that,"  said  the  West- 
erner quietly. 

"No,"  responded  Galorey  bitterly,  "you  let 
others  play  tricks  on  you." 

The  young  man  threw  his  cue  smartly  down, 
his  youth  looked  contemptuously  at  the  worldly 
man,  and  he  turned  pale,  but  he  said  in  a  low 
voice : 

"Now,  you've  got  to  let  up  on  this,  Gordon ;  I 
thought  at  first  you  had  been  drinking.  I  won't 
listen.  Let's  get  on  another  subject,  or  I'll  clear 
out." 

Galorey,  however,  cool  and  pitiful  of  the  tan- 
gle in  the  boy's  affairs,  wouldn't  let  himself  be 
angry.  "You  are  my  old  chum's  boy,  Dan,"  he 
went  on,  "and  I'm  not  going  to  stand  by  and  see 
179 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

you  spoil  your  life  in  silence.  You  are  of  age. 
You  can  go  to  the  devil  if  you  like,  but  you 
can't  go  there  under  my  roof,  without  a  word 
from  me." 

"Then  I'll  get  out  from  under  your  roof,  to- 
night." 

"Right !  I  don't  blame  you  there,  but,  before 
you  go,  tell  Lily  you  have  lost  your  money,  and 
see  what  she  is  made  of.  My  dear  chap" — he 
changed  his  tone  to  one  of  affection — "don't  be 
an  ape;  listen  to  me,  for  your  father's  sake; 
remember  your  whole  life's  happiness  is  in  this 
game.  Isn't  it  worth  looking  after?" 

"Not  at  the  risk  of  hurting  a  woman's  feel- 
ings," said  the  boy. 

"How  can  it  hurt  her,  my  dear  man,  to  tell 
her  you  are  poor  ?" 

"It's  a  lie.  I'm  not  up  to  lying  to  her ;  I  don't 
care  to.  And  you  mean  to  think  that  if  I  told 
her  I  was  busted  she  would  throw  me  over?" 

"Like  a  shot,  my  green  young  friend — like  a 
shot." 

180 


GALOREY   GIVES   ADVICE 

"You  haven't  a  very  good  opinion  of  women," 
Blair  threw  out  with  as  near  a  sneer  as  his  fine 
young  face  could  express. 

"No,  not  very,"  agreed  the  pool  player,  who 
had  continued  his  shots  with  more  or  less  sang- 
froid. When  Galorey  had  run  off  his  string  of 
balls  he  said,  looking  up  from  the  table:  "But 
I've  got  a  very  good  opinion  of  that  'nice  girl' 
you  told  me  of  when  you  first  came,  and  I  wish  to 
Heaven  she  had  kept  you  in  the  States." 

This  caught  the  boy's  attention  as  nothing 
else  had.  "There  never  was  any  sucK  girl,"  he 
said  slowly ;  "there  never  has  been  anywhere ;  I 
rather  guess  they  don't  grow.  You  have  made 
me  a  cad  in  listening  to  you,  Gordon,  but  as  to 
playing  any  of  those  comedy  tricks  you  suggest, 
they  are  not  in  my  line.  If  she  is  marrying  me 
for  my  money,  why,  she'll  get  it." 

"You're  a  coward,"  said  Galorey,  "like  the 
rest  of  American  husbands — all  ideal  and  no 
common  sense.  You  want  to  make  a  mess  of  your 
181 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

life.    You  haven't  the  grit  to  get  out  of  a  bad 
job." 

He  spurred  himself  on  and  his  weak  face  grew 
strong  as  he  felt  he  was  compelling  the  boy's  at- 
tention. "If  you  only  had  half  the  character 
your  father  had,  you  wouldn't  make  a  mistake 
like  this ;  you  wouldn't  run  blind  into  such  a  deal 
as  this." 

Blair  was  impressed  by  his  host.  Galorey 
was  so  deadly  in  earnest  and  so  honest,  and,  as 
Dan's  face  grew  set  and  hardened,  his  compan- 
ion prayed  for  wisdom.  "If  I  can  only  win 
through  this  without  touching  Lily  hard,"  he 
thought,  and  as  he  waited,  Blair  said : 

"You  haven't  hesitated  to  call  me  names,  Gor- 
don. You're  not  my  build  or  my  age,  and  I 
can't  thrash  you." 

And  his  host  said  cheerfully:  "Oh,  yes,  you 
can;  come  on  and  try,"  and,  metaphorically 
speaking,  Dan  struck  his  first  blow : 

"They  say — people  have  said  to  me — that  you 
once  cared  for  Lily  yourself." 
182 


GALOREY   GIVES   ADVICE 

The  Englishman's  heavy  eyelids  did  not  flick- 
er. "It's  quite  true." 

Taken  back  by  this  frank  response,  Blair 
stammered:  "Well,  I  guess  that  explains  every- 
thing. It's  not  surprising  that  you  should  feel 
as  you  'do.  If  you  are  jealous,  I  can  forgive  it 
a  little  bit,  but  it  is  low  down  to  call  a  woman  a 
fortune  hunter." 

Now  Gordon  Galorey's  face  changed  and 
grew  slightly  white.  "Don't  make  me  angry, 
my  dear  chap,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone;  "I  have 
said  what  I  wanted  to  say.  Now,  go  to  the  devil 
if  you  like  and  as  soon  as  you  like." 

And  the  boy  said  hotly,  stammering  in  his  ex- 
citement : 

"Not  yet — not  yet — not  before  I  tell  you  what 
I  think." 

Gordon,  with  wonderful  control  of  his  own 
anger,  met  the  boy's  eyes,  and  said  with  great 
patience: 

"No,  'don't,  Dan;  don't  go  on.  There  are 
many  things  in  this  affair  that  we  can't  touch 
183 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

upon.  Let  it  drop.  The  right  woman  would 
make  a  ripping  man  of  you,  but  you  oughtn't  to 
marry  for  ten  years." 

Dan  took  the  hand  which  Galorey  put  out  to 
him,  and  the  Englishman  said  warmly:  "My 
dear  chap,  I  hope  it  will  all  come  out  right,  from 
my  heart." 

Dan,  who  had  regained  his  balance,  said  to  his 
friend : 

"I've  been  very  angry  at  what  you  said,  but 
you're  the  chap  my  father  sent  me  to.  There 
must  be  something  back  of  this,  and  I'm  going 
to  find  out  what  it  is,  and  I'm  going  to  take  my 
own  way  to  find  out.  I  wouldn't  give  a  rap  for 
anything  that  came  to  me  through  a  trick  or  a 
lie,  and  I  wouldn't  know  how  to  go  to  her  with 
a  cock-and-bull  story.  I  shall  act  as  I  feel  and 
go  ahead  being  just  as  I  am,  and  perhaps  she 
won't  want  me  after  all,  even  if  I  have  got  the 
rocks !" 

And  Galorey  said  heartily :  "I  wish  there  was 
a  chance  of  it." 

184 


GALOREY   GIVES    ADVICE 

When,  later,  Gordon  thought  of  Dan  it  was 
with  a  glow.  "What  a  chip  .of  the  old  block  he 
is,"  he  said ;  "what  a  good  bit  of  character,  even 
at  twenty-two  years."  He  was  divided  between 
feeling  that  he  had  made  a  mess  of  things  be- 
tween Dan  and  himself,  and  feeling  sure  that 
some  of  his  advice  had  gone  hdme.  After  a  mo- 
ment's silence,  Dan  Blair's  son  said:  "I'm  going 
up  to  London  to-morrow." 

"For  long?" 

"Don't  know." 

Then  returning  with  boyish  simplicity  to  their 
subject,  which  Galorey  thought  had  been 
dropped,  Dan  said: 

"There  may  be  something  true  in  what  you 
say,  Gordon.  Perhaps  she  does  want  my  money. 
I'm  not  a  titled  man  and  I'll  never  be  known  for 
anything  except  my  income.  At  any  rate  I  was 
rich  when  I  asked  her  to  marry  me,  and  I'm  go- 
ing to  fix  up  that  old  place  of  hers,  and  I'm  glad 
I've  got  the  coin  to  do  it." 

When,  later,  for  they  had  been  interrupted  in 
185 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

their  conversation  by  the  entrance  of  the  lady 
herself,  Gordon,  as  Ruggles  had  done,  mentally 
thought  of  the  flowing  tide  of  life,  and  how  it 
flowed  over  what  he  himself  had  called  "rotten 
ground."  Perhaps  old  Blair  was  right,  he 
mused,  after  all.  What  does  it  matter  if  the 
source  is  pure  at  the  head  water?  It's  awfully 
hard  to  force  it  at  the  start,  at  least. 


186 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   MUSICALS    PROGRAM 

THE  duchess  ran  Dan,  made  plans,  set  the 
pace,  and  they  were  very  much  in  evi- 
dence during  the  season.  The  young  Ameri- 
can, good-natured  and  generous,  the  duchess 
beautiful  and  knowing,  were  the  observed  of 
London,  and  those  of  her  friends  who  would 
have  tolerated  Dan  on  account  of  his  money, 
ended  by  sincerely  liking  him.  The  wedding- 
day  had  not  been  fixed  as  yet,  and  Dan  was  not 
so  violently  carried  away  that  he  could  not  wait 
to  be  married.  Meanwhile  Gordon  Galorey 
thanked  God  for  the  delay  and  hoped  for  a  mira- 
cle to  break  the  spell  over  his  friend's  son  before 
it  should  be  too  late.  In  early  May  the  question 
came  up  regarding  the  musicale.  The  duchess 
made  her  list  and  arranged  the  Sunday  after- 
187 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

noon  and  her  performers  to  suit  her  taste,  and 
the  week  before  lounged  in  her  boudoir  when 
Dan  and  Galorey  appeared  for  a  late  morning 
call. 

"There,  Dan,"  she  said,  holding  out  a  bit  of 
paper,  "look  at  the  list  and  the  program,  will 
you?" 

"Sounds  and  reads  all  right,"  commented 
Dan,  handing  it  on  to  Galorey. 

Besides  being  an  artistic  event,  she  intended 
that  the  concert  should  serve  to  present  Dan  to 
her  special  set.  She  now  lit  a  cigarette  and  gave 
one  to  each  of  her  friends,  lighting  the  English- 
man's herself. 

"The  best  names  in  London,"  Lord  Galorey 
said.  "You  see,  Dan,  we  shall  trot  you  out  in  a 
royal  way.  I  hope  you  fully  appreciate  how 
swagger  this  is  to  be." 

Glancing  at  the  list  Blair  remarked : 

'"But  I  don't  see  Miss  Lane's  name?" 

"Why  should  you?"  the  duchess  answered 
sharply. 

188 


THE    MUSICALE    PROGRAM 

"Why,  we  planned  all  along  that  she  was  to 
sing,"  he  returned. 

She  gave  a  long  puff  to  her  cigarette. 

"We  did  rather  speak  of  it.  But  we  shall  do 
very  well  as  we  are.  The  program  is  full  up 
and  it's  perfectly  ripping  as  it  stands." 

"Yes,  there's  only  just  one  thing  the  matter 
with  it,"  the  boy  smiled  good-naturedly,  "and  it's 
easy  enough  to  run  her  in.  I  guess  Miss  Lane 
could  be  run  in  most  anywhere  on  any  pro- 
gram and  not  clear  the  house." 

Lord  Galorey,  who  knew  nothing  about  the 
subject  under  discussion,  said  tactfully:  "Why, 
of  course,  Letty  Lane  is  perfectly  charming,  but 
you  couldn't  get  her,  my  dear  chap.'* 

"I  think  we  will  let  the  thing  stand  as  it  is," 
said  the  duchess,  going  back  to  her  desk  and 
stirring  her  paper  about,  "It's  really  too  late 
now,  you  know,  Dan." 

Unruffled,   but  with  a  determination  which 
Lord  Galorey  and  the  lady  were  far  from  guess- 
ing, Blair  resumed  tranquilly  : 
189 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

"Oh,  I  guess  she'll  come  in  all  right,  late  as  it 
is.  We'll  send  word  to  her  and  fix  it  up." 

The  duchess  turned  to  him,  annoyed:  "OK, 
don't  be  a  beastly  bore,  dear — you  are  not  really 
serious." 

Dan  still  smiled  at  her  sweetly.  "You  bet 
your  life  I  am,  though,  Lily." 

She  rang  a  bell  at  the  side  of  her  desk,  and 
when  the  footman  came  in  gave  him  the  sheet  of 
paper.  "See  that  this  is  taken  at  once  to  the  sta- 
tioner's." 

"Better  wait,  Lily" — her  fiance  extended  his 
hand — "until  the  program  is  filled  out  the  way 
it  is  going  to  stand."  And  Blair  fixed  his  hand- 
some eyes  on  his  future  wife.  "Why,  we  got 
this  shindig  up,"  he  noted  irreverently,  "just  so 
Miss  Lane  could  sing  at  it." 

"Nonsense,"  she  cried,  angry  and  powerless, 
"you  ridiculous  creature !  Fancy  me  getting  up 
a  musicale  for  Letty  Lane !  Do  tell  Dan  to  stop 
bothering  and  fussing,  Gordon.  He's  too  ridic- 
ulous !" 

190 


THE    MUSICALE    PROGRAM 

And  Lord  Galorey  said:  "What  is  the  row 
anyway?" 

"Why,  I  want  Miss  Lane  to  sing  here  on 
Sunday,"  Dan  explained.  .  .  . 

"And  I  don't  want  her,"  finished  the  Duchess 
of  Breakwater,  who  was  evidently  unwilling  to 
force  a  scene  before  Lord  Galorey.  She  handed 
the  list  to  her  servant,  but  Dan  intercepted  it. 

"Don't  send  out  that  list,  Lily,  as  it  is." 

He  gave  it  back  to  her,  and  his  tone  was  so 
cool,  his  expression  so  decided  and  quiet,  that  she 
was  disarmed,  and  dismissed  the  servant,  telling 
him  to  return  when  she  should  ring  again. 
Coloring  with  anger,  she  tapped  the  envelope 
against  her  brilliantly  polished  nails. 

If  she  had  been  married  to  Blair  she  would 
have  burst  into  a  violent  rage;  if  he  had  been 
poorer  than  he  was  she  would  have  put  him  in 
his  place.  Lord  Galorey  understood  the  con- 
traction of  her  brows  and  lips  as  Dan  reminded : 
"You  promised  me  that  you  would  have  her,  you 
know,  Lily." 

191 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

"Give  in,  Lily,"  Galorey  advised,  rising  from 
the  chair  where  he  was  lounging.  "Give  in 
gracefully." 

And  she  turned  on  Galorey  the  anger  which 
she  dared  not  show  the  other  man.  But  Dan  in- 
terrupted her,  explaining  simply : 

"I  knew  the  girl  when  she  was  a  kid:  she  is 
from  my  old  home,  and  I  want  Lily  to  ask  her 
here  to  sing  for  us,  and  then  to  see  if  we  can't 
do  something  to  get  her  out  of  the  state  she 
is  in." 

Galorey  repeated  vaguely,  "State?" 

"Why,  she's  all  run  down,  tired  out ;  she's  got 
no  real  friends  in  London." 

The  other  man  flicked  the  ash  from  his  cigar- 
ette and  looked  at  Blair's  boy  through  his  mono- 
cle. 

"And  you  thought  that  Lily  might  befriend 
her,  old  chap?" 

"Yes,"  nodded  Dan,  "just  give  her  a  lift,  you 
know." 

Galorey  nodded  back,  smiling  gently.  "I  see, 
192 


THE    MUSICALS    PROGRAM 

I  see — a  moral,  spiritual  lift?  I  see — I  see."  He 
glanced  at  the  woman  with  his  strange  smile. 

She  put  her  cigarette  down  and  seated  herself, 
clasping  her  hands  around  her  knees  and  looked 
at  her  fiance. 

"It's  none  of  my  business  what  Letty  Lane's 
reputation  is.  I  don't  care,  but  you  must  under- 
standvone  thing,  Dan,  I'm  not  a  reformer,  or  a 
charitable  institution,  and  if  she  comes  here  it  is 
purely  professional." 

He  took  the  subject  as  settled,  and  asked  for 
a  copy  of  the  program  and  put  it  in  his  pocket. 
"I'll  get  the  names  of  her  songs  from  her  and 
take  the  thing  myself  to  Harrison's.  And  I'd 
better  hustle,  I  guess;  there's  no  time  to  lose 
between  now  and  Sunday."  And  he  went  out 
triumphant. 

Galorey  remained,  smoking,  and  the  duchess 
continued  her  notes  in  silence,  cooling  down  at 
her  desk.  Her  companion  knew  her  too  well  to 
speak  to  her  until  she  had  herself  in  hand,  and 
when  finally  she  took  up  her  pen  and  turne'd 
193 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

about,  she  appeared  conscious  for  the  first  of 
his  presence. 

"Here  still  1"  she  exclaimed. 

"I  thought  I  might  do  for  a  safety  valve, 
Lily.  You  could  let  some  of  your  anger  out  on 
me." 

The  duchess  left  her  desk  and  came  over  to 
him. 

"I  expect  you  despise  me  thoroughly,  don't 
you,  Gordon?" 

They  had  not  been  alone  together  since  her 
engagement  to  Blair,  for  she  had  taken  pains  to 
avoid  every  opportunity  for  a  tete-a-tete. 

"Despise  you?"  he  repeated  gently.  "It's 
awfully  hard,  isn't  it,  for  a  chap  like  me  to  de- 
spise anybody  ?  We're  none  of  us  used  to  the  best 
quality  of  behavior,  you  know,  my  dear  girl." 

"Don't  talk  rot,  Gordon,"  she  murmured. 

"You  didn't  ask  my  advice,"  he  continued, 
"but  I  don't  hesitate  to  tell  you  that  I  have  done 
everything  I  could  to  save  the  boy." 

She  accepted  this   philosophically.      "Oh,   I 
194, 


THE    MUSICALE    PROGRAM 

knew  you  would ;  I  quite  expected  it,  but — "  and 
in  the  look  she  threw  at  him  there  was  more  lik- 
ing than  resentment — "I  knew  you,  too;  you 
couldn't  go  very  far,  my  dear  fellow." 

"I  think  Dan  Blair  is  excellent  stuff,"  Gordon 
said. 

"He  is  the  greenest,  youngest,  most  ridicu- 
lous infant,"  she  exclaimed  with  irritation,  and 
he  laughed. 

"His  money  is  old  enough  to  walk,  however, 
isn't  it,  Lily?"  She  made  an  angry  gesture. 

"I  expected  you'd  say  something  loathsome." 

Hef  companion  met  her  eyes  directly.  She 
left  her  chair  and  came  and  sat  down  beside  him 
on  the  small  sofa.  As  he  did  not  move,  or  look 
at  her,  but  regarded  his  cigarette  with  interest, 
she  leaned  close  to  him  and  whispered :  "Gordon, 
try  to  be  nice  and  decent.  Try  to  forget  your- 
self. Don't  you  see  what  a  wonderful  chance  it 
is  for  me,  and  that,  as  far  as  you  and  I  are  con- 
cerned, it  can't  go  on?" 

The  face  of  the  man  by  her  side  grew  somber. 
195 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

The  charm  this  woman  had  for  him  had  never 
lessened  since  the  day  when  he  told  her  he  loved 
her,  long  before  his  marriage,  and  they  were 
both  too  poor. 

"We  have  always  been  too  poor,  and  Edith  is 
jealous  of  me  every  day  and  hour  of  her  life. 
Can't  you  be  generous  ?" 

He  rose  and  stood  over  her,  looking  down  at 
her  beautiful  form  and  her  somewhat  softened 
face,  but  his  eyes  were  hard  and  his  face  very 
pale. 

"You  had  better  go,  Gordon,"  she  said  slowly ; 
"you  had  better  go.  .  .  ." 

Then,  as  he  obeyed  her  and  went  like  a  flash 
as  far  as  the  door,  she  followed  him  and  whis- 
pered softly:  "If  you're  really  only  jealous,  I 
can  forgive  you." 

He  managed  to  get  out :  "His  father  was  my 
friend ;  he  sent  the  boy  to  me  and  I've  been  a  bad 
guardian."  He  made  a  gesture  of  despair.  "Put 
yourself  in  my  place.  Let  Dan  Blair  go,  Lily ; 
let  him  go." 

196 


THE    MUSICALE    PROGRAM 

Her  eyelids  flickered  a  little,  and  she  said 
sharply :  "You're  out  of  your  senses,  Gordon — 
and  what  if  I  love  him?" 

With  a  low  exclamation  he  caught  her  hand 
at  the  wrist  so  hard  that  she  cried  out,  and  he 
said  between  his  teeth:  "You  don't  love  him! 
Take  those  words  back !" 

"Of  course  I  do.    Let  me  free !" 
"No,"  he  said  passionately,  holding  her  fast. 
"Not  until  you  take  that  back." 

His  face,  his  tone,  his  force,  dominated  her; 
the  remembrance  of  their  past,  a  possible  future, 
made  her  waver  under  his  eyes,  and  the  woman 
smiled  at  him  as  Blair  had  never  seen  her  smile. 
"Very  well,  then,  goose,"  she  capitulated  al- 
most tenderly ;  "I  don't  love  that  boy,  of  course. 
I'm  marrying  him  for  his  money.  Now,  will  you 
let  me  go?" 

But  he  held  her  still  more  firmly  and  kissed  her 

several  times  before  he  finally  set  her  free,  and 

went  out  of  the  house  miserable — bound  to  her 

by  the  strongest  chains — bound  in  his  conscience 

197 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

and  by  honor  to  his  trust  to  Dan's  father,  and 
yet  handicapped  by  another  sense  of  honor 
which  decrees  that  man  must  keep  silence  to  the 
end. 


198 


CHAPTER  XVH 

LETTY  LANE   SINGS 

HE  house  of  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater 
JL  in  Park  Lane  was  white,  with  green  blinds 
and  green  balconies ;  beautiful,  distinguished  and 
old,  mellow  with  traditions,  and  the  tide  of  fash- 
ion poured  its  stream  into  the  music-room  to 
listen  to  the  Sunday  concert.  Without,  the  day 
was  bland  and  beautiful,  mild  spring  in  the  deep 
sweet  air,  and  already  the  bloom  lay  over  the 
park  and  along  the  turf.  Piccadilly  was  ablaze 
with  flowers,  and  in  the  windows  and  in  the  flow- 
er-women's baskets  they  were  so  sweet  as  to  make 
the  heart  ache  and  to  make  the  senses  thrill. 
Keen  to  the  spring  beauty,  the  last  guest  to  go 
into  the  drawing-room  of  the  Duchess  of  Break- 
water was  the  young  American  man  in  whom  the 
magic  of  the  season  had  stirred  the  blood.  He 
199 


THE    GIRL    FROM   HIS    TOWN 

seemed  the  youngest  and  the  brightest  guest  to 
cross  the  sill  of  the  great  house  whose  debts  he 
was  going  to  pay,  and  whose  future  he  was  go- 
ing to  secure  with  American  money. 

Close  after  him  a  motor  car  rolled  up  to  the 
curb,  and  under  the  awning  Letty  Lane  passed 
quickly,  as  though  thistledown,  blown  into  the 
distinguished  house.  The  actress  was  taken  pos- 
session of  by  several  people  and  shown  up-stairs. 

Dan  spoke  to  his  hostess,  who  wore,  over  her 
azure  dress,  a  necklace  given  her  by  Dan.  She 
said  he  was  "too  late  for  words,"  and  why  hadn't 
he  come  before.  After  greeting  him  she  set  him 
free,  and  he  went  eagerly  to  find  his  place  next 
an  elderly  woman  whom  he  liked  immensely,  Lady 
Caiwarn.  She  had  given  him  twenty  pounds  for 
some  of  his  poor.  Lady  Caiwarn  had  a  calm, 
kind  face,  and  Dan  sat  down  beside  her,  well  out 
of  the  crush,  and  they  talked  amiably  through- 
out the  violin  solo. 

"Think  of  it,"  she  said,  "Letty  Lane  of  the 
Gaiety  is  going  to  sing.  I'd  sit  through  a  great 
200 


LETTY   LANE    SINGS 

deal  for  that.  Let  that  man  with  the  fiddle  do 
his  worst." 

Blair  laughed  appreciatively.  He  thought 
Lady  Caiwarn  would  be  a  good  friend  ?or  Miss 
Lane,  better  than  the  duchess  herself.  "I  wish 
Lily  could  hear  you  talk  about  her  violinist,"  he 
said,  delighted ;  "she  thinks  he's  the  whole  show." 
And  tentatively,  his  ingenuous  eyes  fixed  on 
his  friend,  he  asked:  "I  wonder  how  you  would 
like  to  meet  Miss  Lane.  She's  perfectly  ripping, 
and  she's  from  my  State." 

"Meet  her!"  Lady  Caiwarn  exclaimed,  but  be- 
fore she  could  finish,  through  the  room  ran  the 
little  anticipatory  rustle  that  comes  before  the 
great,  and  which,  when  they  have  gone,  breaks 
into  applause.  The  great  actress  had  appeared 
to  give  her  number.  Dan  and  Lady  Caiwarn, 
behind  the  palms  in  a  little  corner  of  their  own, 
watched  her. 

A  clever  understanding  of  the  world  into 
which  she  was  to  come  this  day,  had  made  the 
girl  dress  like  a  charm.  She  stood  quietly  by 
201 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

the  piano,  her  hands  folde'd.  Among  the  high 
ladies  of  the  English  world  in  their  splendid 
frocks,  their  jewels  and  feathers,  she  was  a  sim- 
ple figure,  her  dress  snow  white,  high  to  her 
throat,  unadorned  by  any  gay  color,  according 
to  the  fashion  of  the  time.  It  was  such  a  dress  as 
Romney  might  have  painted,  and  under  her 
arms  and  from  across  her  breast  there  fell  a 
soft  coral-colored  silken  scarf.  The  costume 
was  daring  in  its  simplicity.  She  might  have 
been  Emma,  Lady  Hamilton,  because  perfectly 
beautiful,  perfectly  talented,  she  could  risk  se- 
vere simplicity,  having  in  herself  the  fire  and  the 
art  and  the  seduction.  Her  hair  was  a  golden 
crown  and  her  eyes  like  stars.  She  was  excited, 
and  the  scarlet  had  run  along  her  cheeks  like 
wine  spilled  over  ivory. 

She  looked  around  the  room,  failed  to  see 
Blair,  but  saw  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater  in  her 
velvet  and  her  jewels.  Letty  Lane  began  to  sing. 
Dan  and  she  had  chosen  Mandalay  and  she  be- 
gan with  it.  Her  dress  only  was  simple.  All 
202 


LETTY   LANE    SINGS 

the  complexity  of  her  talent,  whatever  she  knew 
of  seduction  and  charm,  she  put  in  the  rendering 
of  her  song.  Even  the  conventional  audience, 
most  of  which  knew  her  well,  were  enchanted 
over  again,  and  they  went  wild  about  her.  She 
had  never  been  so  charming.  The  men  clapped 
her  until  she  began  in  self-defense  another  fa- 
vorite of  the  moment,  and  ended  in  a  perfect 
huzzah  of  applause. 

She  refused  to  sing  again  until,  in  the  dis- 
tance, she  saw  Dan  standing  by  the  column  near 
his  seat.  Then  indicating  to  the  pianist  what 
she  wanted,  she  sang  The  Earl  of  Moray,  such 
a  rendering  of  the  old  ballad  as  had  not  been 
heard  in  London,  and  coming,  as  it  did,  from 
the  lips  of  a  popular  singer  whose  character 
and  whose  verve  were  not  supposed  to  be  sym- 
pathetic to  a  piece  of  music  of  this  kind,  the 
effect  was  startling.  Letty  Lane's  face  grew 
pale  with  the  touching  old  tragedy,  the  scarlet 
faded  from  her  cheeks,  her  eyes  grew  dark  and 
moist,  she  might  indeed  herself  have  been  the 
203 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

lady  looking  from  the  castle  wall  while  they 
carried  the  body  of  her  dead  lover  under  those 
beautiful  eyes. 

Dan  felt  his  heart  grow  cold.  If  she  had 
awakened  him  when  he  was  a  little  boy,  she 
thrilled  him  now ;  he  could  have  wept.  Lady  Cai- 
warn  did  wipe  tears  away.  When  the  last  note 
of  the  accompaniment  had  ended,  Dan's  friend  at 
his  side  said:  "How  utterly  ravishing!  What 
a  beautiful,  lovely  creature ;  how  charming  and 
how  frail !" 

He  scarcely  answered.  He  was  making  his 
way  to  Letty  Lane,  and  he  wrung  her  hand, 
murmuring,  "Oh,  you're  great;  you're  great!" 
And  the  pleasure  on  his  face  repaid  her  over 
and  over  again.  "Come,  I  want  you  to  meet 
the  Duchess  of  Breakwater,  and  some  other 
friends  of  mine." 

As  he  let  her  little  cold  hand  fall  and  turned 

about,  the  room  as  by  magic  had  cleared.     The 

prime  minister  had  arrived  late  and  was  in  the 

other  room.    The  refreshments  were  also  being 

#04 


LETTY   LANE    SINGS 

served.  There  was  no  one  to  meet  Letty  Lane, 
except  for  several  young  men  who  came  up 
eagerly  and  asked  to  be  presented,  Gordon  Ga- 
lorey  among  them. 

"Where's  Lily?"  Dan  asked  him;  "I  want  her 
to  meet  Miss  Lane." 

"In  the  conservatory  with  the  prime  minis- 
ter," and  Galorey  looked  meaningly  at  Dan,  as 
much  as  to  say,  "Now  don't  be  an  utter  fool." 

But  Letty  Lane  herself  saved  the  situation. 
She  shook  hands  with  the  utmost  cordiality  and 
sweetness  with  the  men  who  had  been  presented 
to  her,  and  asked  Dan  to  take  her  to  her  motor. 
He  waited  for  her  at  the  door  and  she  came 
down  wrapped  around  as  usual  in  her  filmy  scarf. 

"Are  you  better?"  he  asked  eagerly.  "You 
look  awfully  stunning,  and  I  don't  think  I  can 
ever  thank  you  enough." 

She  assured  him  that  she  was  "all  right,"  and 

that  she  had  a  "lovely  new  role  to  learn  and  that 

it  was  coming  on  next  month."    He  helped  her 

in  and  she  seemed  to  fill  the  motor  like  a  basket 

205 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN; 

of  fresh  white  flowers.     Again  he  repeated,  as 
he  held  the  door  open : 

"I  can't  thank  you  enough :  you  were  a  great 
success." 

She  smiled  wickedly,  and  couldn't  resist : 

"Especially  with  the  women." 

Dan's  face  flushed;  he  was  already  deeply 
hurt  for  her,  and  her  words  showed  him  that  the 
insult  had  gone  home. 

"Where  are  you  going  now  ?" 

"Right  to  the  Savoy." 

Without  another  word,  hatless  as  he  was,  he 
got  into  the  motor  and  closed  the  door. 

"I'm  going  to  take  you  home,"  he  informed 
her  quietly,  "and  there's  no  use  in  looking  at 
me  like  that  either !  When  I'm  set  on  a  thing  I 
get  it !" 

They  rolled  away  in  the  bland  sunset,  passed 
the  park,  down  Piccadilly,  where  the  flowers  in 
the  streets  were  so  sweet  that  they  made  the 
heart  ache,  and  the  air  through  the  window  was 
so  sweet  that  it  made  the  senses  swim ! 
206 


CHAPTER  XVHI 

A   WOMAN'S   WAY 

WHEN  the  duchess  thought  of  looking 
for  Blair  later  in  the  afternoon  he  was 
not  to  be  found.  Galorey  told  her  finally  he  had 
gone  off  in  the  motor  with  Letty  Lane,  bare- 
headed. The  duchess  was  bidding  good-by  to 
the  last  guest;  she  motioned  Galorey  to  wait 
and  he  did  so,  and  they  found  themselves  alone 
in  the  room  where  the  flowers,  still  fresh,  offered 
their  silent  company;  the  druggets  strewn  with 
leaves  of  smilax,  the  open  piano  with  its  scat- 
tered music,  the  dark  rosewood  that  had  served 
for  a  rest  for  Letty  Lane's  white  hand.  Ga- 
lorey and  the  duchess  turned  their  backs  on  the 
music-room,  and  went  into  a  small  conservatory 
looking  out  over  the  park. 

"He's  nothing  but  a  cowboy,"  the  lady  ex- 
claimed.    "He  must  be  quite  mad,  going  off 
bareheaded  through  London  with  an  actress." 
207 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

"He's  spoiled,"  Lord  Galorey  said  peacefully. 

She  carried  a  bunch  of  orchids  Dan  had  given 
her,  and  regarded  them  absently.  "I've  made 
him  angry,  and  he's  taking  this  way  of  exhibit- 
ing his  spleen." 

Galorey  said  cheerfully :  "Oh,  Dan's  got  lots 
of  spirit." 

Looking  up  from  the  contemplation  of  her 
flowers  to  her  friend,  the  duchess  murmured 
with  a  charming  smile:  "I  don't  hit  it  off  very 
well  with  Americans,  Gordon." 

His  color  rising,  Galorey  returned:  "I  think 
you'll  have  to  let  Dan  go,  Lily !" 

For  a  second  she  thought  so  herself ;  and  they 
both  started  when  the  voice  of  the  young  man 
himself  was  heard  in  the  next  room. 

"Good-by,  I'll  let  you  make  your  peace,  Lily," 
and  Gordon  passed  Dan  in  the  drawing-room  in 
leaving,  and  thought  the  boy's  face  was  a  study. 

The  duchess  held  out  her  hand  to  Dan  as  he 
came  across  the  room. 

"Come  here,"  she  called  agreeably.  "Every 
208 


A   WOMAN'S   WAY 

one  has  gone,  thank  heaven !    I've  been  waiting 
for  you  for  an  age.    Let's  talk  it  all  over." 

"Just  what  I've  come  back  to  do." 

There  had  been  royalty  at  the  musicale,  and 
the  hostess  spoke  of  her  guests  and  their  ap- 
proval, mentioning  one  by  one  the  names  of  the 
great.  It  might  have  impressed  the  ear  of  a 
man  more  snob  than  was  the  Montana  copper 
king's  son.  "I  did  so  want  you  to  meet  the 
Bishop  of  London,"  she  said.  "But  nobody 
could  find  you.  You  look  most  awfully  well, 
Dan,"  and  with  the  orchids  she  held,  she  touched 
his  hand. 

He  was  so  direct,  so  incapable  of  anything 
but  the  honest  truth,  that  Dan  didn't  know  deceit 
when  he  saw  it,  and  his  lady  spoke  so  naturally 
that  he  thought  for  a  moment  her  rudeness  had 
been  unintentional.  Perhaps  she  hadn't  really 
meant —  Everybody  in  her  set  was  rude,  great 
and  rude,  but  she  could  be  deliciously  gracious, 
and  was  so  now. 

"Don't  you  think  it  went  off  well?" 
209 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

Dan  said  that  it  had  been  ripping  and  no  mis- 
take. 

"I  like  Lady  Caiwarn ;  she's  bully,  and  I  liked 
the  king.  He  spoke  to  me  as  if  he  had  known 
me  for  a  year." 

She  began  to  be  a  little  more  at  her  ease. 

"I  didn't  care  much  for  the  fiddling,  but  Letty 
Lane  made  up  for  all  the  rest,"  said  Dan. 
"Wasn't  she  great?" 

"Ra-ther!"  The  duchess'  tone  was  so  warm 
that  he  asked  frankly:  "Well,  why  didn't  you 
speak  to  her,  Lily?"  And  the  directness  caught 
her  unprepared.  The  insult  to  the  actress  by 
which  she  had  planned  to  teach  him  a  lesson  failed 
to  give  her  the  bravado  she  found  she  needed  to 
meet  Dan's  question.  Her  part  of  the  trans- 
action, deliberate,  unkind,  seemed  worse  and 
more  serious  through  his  headlong  act,  when  he 
had  driven  off,  braving  her,  in  the  motor  of  an 
actress.  She  didn't  dare  to  be  jealous. 

"Wasn't  it  too  dreadful?"  she  murmured.  "Do 
you  think  she  noticed  it  too  awfully?  I  was  just 
210 


A   WOMAN'S    WAY 

about  to  go  up  and  speak  to  her  when  the  prime 
minister — " 

Dan  interrupted  the  duchess.  He  blushed  for 
her. 

"Never  mind,  Lily."  His  tone  had  in  it  some- 
thing of  benevolence.  "If  you  really  didn't 
mean  to  be  mean — " 

She  was  enchanted  by  her  easy  victory.  "It 
was  abominable." 

"Yes,"  he  accepted,  "it  was  just  that!  I  was 
mortified.  You  wouldn't  treat  a  beggar  so.  But 
she's  got  too  much  sense  to  care." 

Eager  to  do  the  duchess  justice,  even  though 
he  was  little  by  little  being  emancipated,  he  was 
all  the  more  determined  to  be  fair  to  her. 

"It  was  too  sweet  of  her  not  to  mind.  I  dare 
say  her  check  helped  to  soothe  her  feelings,"  the 
woman  said. 

"You  don't  know  her,"  he  replied  quietly. 
"She  wouldn't  touch  a  cent." 

The  duchess  exclaimed  in  horror:  "Then  she 
did  mind." 

211 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

And  he  returned  slowly:  "She's  eaten  and 
drunk  with  kings,  and  if  the  king  hadn't  gone 
so  early  you  can  bet  he  would  have  set  the  fash- 
ion differently.  Let's  drop  the  question.  She 
sent  you  back  your  check,  and  I  guess  you're 
quits." 

With  a  sharp  note  in  her  voice  she  said:  "I 
hope  it  won't  be  in  the  papers  that  you  drove 
bareheaded  back  to  the  hotel  with  her.  Don't 
forget  that  we  are  dining  with  the  Galoreys, 
and  it's  past  seven." 

After  Dan  had  left  her,  the  duchess  glanced 
over  the  dismantled  room  which  the  servants 
were  already  restoring  to  order.  She  was  not  at 
ease  and  not  at  peace,  but  there  was  something 
else  besides  her  tiff  with  Dan  that  absorbed  her, 
and  that  was  Galorey.  She  couldn't  quite  shake 
him  off.  He  was  beginning  to  be  imperious  in 
his  demands  on  her;  and,  in  spite  of  her  cupid- 
ity and  her  debts,  in  spite  of  the  precarious  posi- 
tion in  which  she  found  herself  with  Dan,  she 
could  not  break  with  Galorey  yet.  She  went  up- 


A   WOMAN'S   WAY 

stairs  humming   under  her   breath  the  ballad 
Letty  Lane  had  sung  in  the  music- room : 

"And  long  will  his  lady  look  from  the  castle 
wall." 


813 


CHAPTER  XIX 

DAN  AWAKES 

THE  next  night  Dan,  magnetically  drawn 
down  the  Strand  to  the  Gaiety,  arrived 
just  before  the  close  of  the  last  act,  slipped  in, 
and  sat  far  back  watching  Letty  Lane  close  her 
part.  After  hearing  her  sing  as  she  had  the  after- 
noon before  in  the  worldly  group,  it  was  curious 
to  see  her  before  the  public  in  her  flashing  dress 
and  to  realize  how  much  she  was  a  thing  of  the 
people.  To-night  she  was  a  completely  personal 
element  to  Dan.  He  could  never  think  of  her 
again  as  he  had  hitherto.  The  sharp  drive 
through  the  town  that  afternoon  in  her  motor 
had  made  a  change  in  his  feelings.  He  had  been 
hurt  for  her,  with  anger  at  the  Duchess  of 
Breakwater's  rudeness,  and  from  the  first  he  had 
always  known  that  there  was  in  him  a  hot  cham- 


DAN    AWAKES 

pionship  for  the  actress.  To-night,  whenever 
the  man  who  sang  with  her,  put  his  arms  around 
her,  danced  with  her,  held  her,  it  was  an  of- 
fense to  Dan  Blair;  it  had  angered  him  before, 
but  to-night  it  did  more.  One  by  one  everything 
faded  out  of  his  foreground  but  the  brilliant  lit- 
tle figure  with  her  golden  hair,  her  lovely  face, 
her  beautiful  graceful  body,  and  in  her  last 
gesture  on  the  stage  before  the  curtain  went 
down,  she  seemed  to  Blair  to  call  him  and  dis- 
tinctly to  make  an  appeal  to  him : 

"You  might  rest  your  weary  feet 
If  you  came  to  Mandalay." 

Well,  there  was  nothing  weary  about  the 
young,  live,  vigorous  American,  as,  standing 
there  in  his  dark  edge  of  the  theater,  his  hands  in 
his  pockets,  his  bright  face  fixed  toward  the 
stage,  he  watched  the  slow  falling  of  the  curtain 
on  the  musical  drama.  Dan  realized  how  full  of 
vigor  he  was ;  he  felt  strong  and  capable,  indeed 
a  feeling  of  power  often  came  to  him  delight- 
215 


THE    GIRL   FROM    HIS    TOWN 

fully,  but  it  had  never  been  needful  for  him  to 
exert  his  forces,  he  had  never  had  need  to  show 
his  mettle.  Now  he  felt  at  those  words : 

"You  might  rest  your  weary  feet" 

how,  with  all  his  heart,  he  longed  that  the 
dancer  should  rest  those  lovely  tired  little  feet 
of  hers,  far  away  from  any  call  of  the  public, 
far  away  on  some  lovely  shore  which  the  hymn 
tune  called  the  coral  strand.  As  he  gazed  at 
her  mobile,  sensitive  face,  whose  eyes  had  seen 
the  world,  and  whose  lips — Dan's  thoughts 
changed  here  with  a  great  pang,  and  the  close 
of  all  his  meditations  was :  "Gosh,  she  ought  to 
rest!" 

The  boy  walked  briskly  back  of  the  scenes  to- 
ward the  little  door,  behind  which,  as  he  tapped, 
he  hoped  with  all  his  heart  to  hear  her  voice  bid 
him  come  in.  But  there  were  other  voices  in  the 
room.  He  rattled  the  door-knob  and  Letty  Lane 
herself  called  to  him  without  opening  the  door : 
216 


DAN    AWAKES 

"Will  you  go,  please,  Mr.  Blair?  I  can't  see 
any  one  to-night." 

He  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  go — to  grind  his 
heel  as  he  turned — to  swear  deeply  against  Po- 
niotowsky.  His  late  ecstasy  was  turned  to  gall. 
The  theater  seemed  horrible  to  him :  the  chatter- 
ing of  the  chorus  girls,  their  giggles,  their 
laughter  as  he  passed  the  little  groups,  all 
seemed  weird  and  infernal,  and  everything  be- 
came an  object  of  irritation. 

As  he  went  blindly  out  of  the  theater  he  struck 
his  arm  against  a  piece  of  stage  fittings  and  the 
blow  was  sharp  and  stinging,  but  he  was  glad  of 
the  hurt. 

Without,  in  the  street,  Dan  took  his  place 
with  the  other  men  and  waited,  a  bitter  taste 
in  his  mouth  and  anger  in  his  breast,  waited 
until  Letty  Lane  fluttered  down,  followed  by 
Poniotowsky,  and  the  two  drove  away. 

The  young  man  could  have  gone  after,  run- 
ning behind  the  motor,  but  there  was  a  taxicab 
at  hand;  he  jumped  in  it,  ordering  the  man  to 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

follow  the  car  to  the  Savoy.  There  the  boy  had 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  Miss  Lane  enter  the  hotel, 
Poniotowsky  with  her — had  the  anguish  of  see- 
ing them  both  go  up  in  the  lift  to  her  apart- 
ments. 

When  Dan  came  to  himself  he  heard  the 
chimes  of  St.  Martin's  ring  out  eleven.  He  then 
remembered  for  the  first  time  that  he  had  prom- 
ised to  dine  alone  at  home  with  the  Duchess  of 
Breakwater. 

"Gosh,  Lily  will  be  wild!" 

In  spite  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour  he  hur- 
ried to  Park  Lane.  The  familiar  fa'ce  of  the 
man-servant  who  let  him  in  blurred  before  the 
young  man's  eyes.  Her  grace  was  out  at  the 
theater?  Blair  would  wait  then,  and  he  went 
into  the  small  drawing-room,  quiet,  empty,  re- 
poseful, with  a  fire  across  the  andirons,  for  the 
evening  was  damp  and  cool.  Still  dazed  by  his 
jealous,  passionate  emotions,  he  glanced  about 
the  room,  chose  a  long  leather  sofa,  and  stretch- 
ing out  his  length,  fell  asleep.  There  in  the 
218 


DAN   AWAKES 

shadow  he  slept  profoundly,  waking  suddenly 
to  find  that  he  was  not  alone.  Across  the  room 
the  Duchess  of  Breakwater  stood  by  the  table ; 
she  was  in  evening  dress,  her  cloak  and  gloves 
on  the  chair  at  her  side.  She  laughed  softly 
and  the  man  to  whom  she  laughed,  on  whom  she 
smiled,  was  Lord  Galorey. 

Blair  raised  himself  up  on  the  sofa  without 
making  any  noise,  and"  he  saw  Galorey  take  the 
woman  in  his  arms.  The  sight  didn't  make  the 
fiance  angry.  He  realized  instantly  that  he 
wanted  to  believe  that  It  was  true,  and  as  there 
was  nothing  theatrical  in  the  young  Westerner, 
he  sprang  up,  slang  so  much  a  part  of  his  na- 
ture that  the  first  words  that  came  to  his  lips 
was  a  phrase  in  vogue. 

"Look  who's  here !"  he  cried,  and  came  blithely 
forward,  his  head  clear,  his  lips  smiling. 

The  duchess  gave  a  little  scream  and  Dan 
lounged  up  to  the  two  people  and  held  his  hand 
frankly  out  to  the  lady. 

"That's  all  right,  Lily!  Go  right  on,  Gordon, 
219 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

please.  Onlj  I  had  to  let  you  know  when  I 
waked  up !  Only  fair.  I  guess  I  must  have  been 
asleep  quite  a  while." 

The  Duchess  of  Breakwater  shrugged.  "I 
don't  know  what  you  dreamed,"  she  said  acidly, 
"if  you  were  asleep." 

"Well,  it  was  a  very  pretty  dream,"  the  boy 
returned,  "and  showed  what  a  stupid  ass  I've 
been  to  think  I  couldn't  have  dreamed  it  when  I 
was  awake." 

"I  think  you  are  crazy,"  the  duchess  ex- 
claimed. 

But  Blair  repeated:  "That's  all  right.  I 
mean  to  say  as  far  as  I  am  concerned — " 

And  Galorey,  in  order  to  stand  by  his  lady, 
murmured : 

"My  dear  chap,  you  have  been  dreaming." 

But  Blair  met  the  Englishman's  gray  eyes 
with  his  blue  ones.  "I  did  have  a  bottle  of  cham- 
pagne, Gordon,  that's  a  fact,  but  it  couldn't 
make  me  see  what  I  did  see." 

"Dan,"  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater  broke  in, 


DAN   AWAKES 

"let  Gordon  take  you  home,  like  a  dear.    You're 
really  ragging  on  in  a  ridiculous  way." 

Blair  looked  at  her  steadily,  and  as  he  did  so 
he  repeated: 

"That's  all  right,  Lily.  Gordon  cares  a  lot, 
and  the  truth  of  the  matter  is  that  I  do  not." 

She  grew  very  pale. 

"I  would  have  stuck  to  my  word,  of  course," 
he  went  on,  "but  we'd  have  been  infernally  un- 
happy and  ended  up  in  the  divorce  courts.  Now, 
this  little  scene  here  of  yours  lets  me  out,  and  I 
don't  lay  it  up  against  either  of  you." 

"Gordon !"  she  appealed  to  her  lover,  "why,  in 
Heaven's  name,  don't  you  speak !" 

The  Englishman  realized  that  while  he  was 
glad  at  heart,  he  regretted  that  he  had  been  the 
means  of  her  losing  the  chance  of  her  life. 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  say,  Lily?"  he  ex- 
claimed with  a  desperate  gesture.  "I  can't  tell 
him  I  don't  love  you.  I  have  loved  you,  God 
help  me,  for  ten  years." 

She  could  have  killed  him  for  it. 
221 


THE    GIRL   FROM    HIS    TOWN 

"I  can  tell  you,  Dan,  if  you  want  me  to,"  Ga- 
lorey  went  on,  "that  I  don't  believe  she  cares  a 
penny  for  any  one  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  for 
you  or  me." 

Old  Dan  Blair's  son  showed  his  business  train- 
ing. His  one  idea  was  to  "get  out,"  and  as  he 
didn't  care  who  the  Duchess  of  Breakwater  loved 
or  didn't  love,  he  wanted  to  break  away  as  fast 
as  he  could.  He  sat  down  at  the  table  under  the 
light  of  the  lamp  and  drew  out  his  wallet  with 
its  compact,  thick  little  check  book,  the  million- 
aire's pass  to  most  of  the  things  that  he  wants. 

"You've  taught  me  a  lot,"  he  said  to  the 
Duchess  of  Breakwater,  "and  my  father  sent  me 
over  here  for  that.  I  have  been  awfully  fond  of 
you,  too.  I  thought  I  was  fonder  than  I  am,  I 
guess.  At  any  rate  I  want  to  stand  by  one  of  my 
promises.  That  old  place  of  yours — Stainer 
Court — now  that's  got  to  be  fixed  up." 

He  made  a  few  computations  on  paper,  lifted 
the  pad  to  her  with  the  figures  on  it,  round,  gen- 
erous and  full. 


DAN   AWAKES 

"At  home,"  he  said,  "in  Blairtown,  we  have 
what  we  call  ^engagement*  parties,  when  each 
fellow  brings  a  present  to  the  girl,  but  this  is 
what  we  might  call  a  'broken  engagement  par- 
ty.' Now,  I  can't,"  the  boy  went  on,  "give  this 
money  to  you  very  well ;  it  won't  look  right.  We 
will  have  to  fix  that  up  some  way  or  other.  You 
will  have  to  say  you  got  an  unexpected  inher- 
itance from  some  uncle  in  Australia."  He  smiled 
at  Galorey:  "We  will  fix  it  up  together." 

His  candor,  his  simplicity,  were  so  charming, 
he  stood  before  the  two  so  young,  so  clear,  so 
clean,  that  a  sudden  tenderness  for  him,  and  a 
sense  of  what  she  had  lost,  what  she  never  had 
had,  made  her  exclaim : 

"Dan,  I  really  don't  care  a  pin  for  the  money 
— I  don't" — but  the  hand  she  held  out  was  seized 
by  the  other  man  and  held  fast.  Galorey  said : 

"Very  well,  let  it  go  at  that.  You  don't  care 
for  the  money,  but  you  will  take  it  just  the  same. 
Now,  don't,  for  God's  sake,  tell  him  that  you 
care  for  him." 

223 


THE    GIRL   FROM    HIS    TOWN 

He  made  her  meet  his  eyes  this  time :  stronger 
than  she,  Galorey  forced  her  to  be  sincere.  She 
set  Dan  free  and  he  turned  and  left  them  stand- 
ing there  facing  each  other.  He  softly  crossed 
the  room,  and  looking  back,  he  saw  them,  tall, 
distinguished,  both  of  them  under  the  lamplight 
— enemies,  and  yet  the  closest  friends  bound  by 
the  strongest  tie  in  the  world. 

As  Dan  went  out  through  the  curtains  of  the 
room  and  they  fell  behind  him,  the  Duchess  of 
Breakwater  sank  down  in  the  chair  by  the  side  of 
the  table ;  she  buried  her  face.  Gordon  Galorey 
bent  over  her  and  again  took  her  in  his  arms, 
and  she  suff ered  it. 


224 


CHAPTER  XX 

A   HAND   CLASP 

IT  WAS  one  o'clock.  Blair  called  a  hansom 
and  told  the  driver  to  take  him  to  the  Carl- 
ton,  and  leaning  back  in  the  vehicle  he  breathed 
a  long  sigh.  He  looked  like  his  father,  but  he 
didn't  know  it.  He  felt  old.  He  was  a  man  and  a 
tired  one  and  a  free  one,  and  the  sense  of  this 
liberty  began  to  refresh  him  like  a  breeze  over 
parched  sand.  He  thought  over  what  he  had 
left  for  a  second,  stopped  longest  in  pitying 
Galorey,  then  went  into  the  Carlton  restaurant 
to  order  some  supper,  for  he  began  to  feel  the 
need  of  food.  He  had  not  time  to  drink  his 
wine  and  partake  of  the  cold  pheasant  before  he 
saw  that  opposite  him  the  two  people  who  had 
taken  their  table  were  Letty  Lane  and  Ponio- 
towsky.  The  woman's  slender  back  was  turned 
225 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

to  Blair,  and  his  heart  gave  a  leap  of  pain  at  the 
sight  of  the  man  with  her,  and  the  cruel  suffer- 
ing began  again. 

Dan  gave  up  the  idea  of  eating:  drank  a 
whole  bottle  of  champagne,  then  pushed  it  away 
from  him  violently.  "Hold  up,"  he  told  himself, 
"you're  getting  dangerous;  this  drinking  won't 
do."  So  he  sat  drumming  on  the  table  looking 
into  the  air.  When  those  two  got  up  to  go, 
however,  he  would  go  with  them ;  that  was  sure. 
He  could  never  see  them  go  out  together  again ; 
no — no — no !  'As  his  brain  grew  a  bit  clearer  he 
saw  that  they  were  having  a  heated  discussion 
between  them,  and  as  the  room  emptied  finally, 
save  for  themselves,  Dan,  though  he  could  not 
hear  what  Poniotowsky  said,  understood  that  he 
was  urging  something  which  the  girl  did  not 
wish  to  grant.  When  they  left  he  rose  as  well, 
and  at  the  door  of  the  restaurant  the  actress  and 
her  companion  paused,  and  Dan  saw  her  face, 
deadly  pale.  There  were  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"For  God's  sake !"  he  heard  her  murmur,  and 


A   HAND    CLASP 

she  impatiently  drew  Her  cloak  around  her  shoul- 
ders. Poniotowsky  put  out  his  hand  tolielp  her, 
but  she  drew  back  from  him,  exclaiming  violent- 
ly :  "Oh,  no — no !"  Before  he  was  aware  what 
he  was  doing,  Dan  was  holding  his  hand  out  to 
Miss  Lane. 

How  she  turned  to  him !  God  of  dreams !  How 
she  took  in  one  cold  hand  his  hand;  just  the 
grasp  a  man  needs  to  lead  him  to  offer  the  serv- 
ice of  his  life.  Her  hand  was  icy — it  thrilled 
him  to  his  marrow. 

"Oh— you— "  she  breathed.    "Hello!" 

No  words  could  have  been  more  commonplace, 
less  in  the  category  of  dramatic  or  poetic  wel- 
come, but  they  were  music  to  the  boy,  and  when 
the  actress  looked  at  him  with  a  ghost  of  a  smile 
on  her  trembling  lips,  Dan  was  sure  there  was 
some  kind  of  blessing  in  the  greeting. 

"I  am  going  to  see  you  home,"  he  said  with 
determination,  and  she  caught  at  it: 

"Yes,  yes,  do!    Will  you?" 

The  third  member  of  the  party  had  not 
227 


THE    GIRL   FROM    HIS    TOWN 

spoken.  A  servant  fetched  him  a  light  to  which 
he  bent,  touching  his  cigar.  Then  he  lifted  his 
head — a  handsome  one — with  its  cold  and  indif- 
ferent eyes,  to  Lettj  Lane. 

"Good  night,  Miss  Lane."  A  deep  color  crept 
under  his  dark  skin. 

"Come,"  said  the  actress  eagerly,  "come 
along;  my  motor  is  out  there  and  I  am  crazy 
tired.  That  is  all  there  is  about  it.  Come 
along." 

Snatched  from  a  marriage  contract,  still  bit- 
ter from  his  jealous  anger,  this — to  be  alone 
with  her — by  the  side  of  this  white,  fragrant, 
wonderful  creature — to  have  been  turned  to  by 
her,  to  be  alone  with  her,  the  Duchess  of  Break- 
water out  of  his  horizon,  Poniotowsky  gone — 
Oh,  it  was  sweet  to  him !  They  had  rolled  out 
from  the  Carlton  down  toward  the  Square  and  he 
put  his  arm  around  her  waist,  his  voice  shook : 

"You  are  dead  tired!  And  when  I  saw  that 
brute  with  you  to-night  I  could  have  shot  him." 

"Take  your  arm  away,  please." 
228 


A   HAND    CLASP 

"Why?" 

"Take  it  away.  I  don't  like  it.  Let  my  hand 
go.  What's  the  matter  with  you?  I  thought  I 
could  trust  you." 

He  said  humbly:  "You  can — certainly  you 
can." 

"I  am  tired— tired— tired!" 

Under  his  breath  he  said :  "Put  your  head  on 
my  shoulder,  Letty,  darling." 

And  she  turned  on  him  nearly  as  violently  as 
she  had  on  Poniotowsky,  and  burst  into  tears, 
crouching  almost  in  the  corner  of  the  motor, 
away  from  him,  both  her  hands  upon  her  breast. 

"Oh,  can't  you  see  how  you  bother  me?  Can't 
you  see  I  want  to  rest  and  be  all  alone  ?  You  are 
like  them  all — like  them  all.  Can't  I  rest  any- 
where?" 

The  very  words  she  used  were  those  he  had 
thought  of  when  he  saw  her  dance  at  the  theater, 
and  his  heart  broke  within  him. 

"You  can,"  he  stammered,  "rest  right  Here. 
God  knows  I  want  you  to  rest  more  than  any- 
829 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

thing.    I  won't  touch  you  or  breathe  again  or 
do  anything  you  don't  want  me  to." 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  and  sat 
so  without  speaking  to  him.  The  light  in  her 
motor  shone  over  her  like  a  kindly  star,  as, 
wrapped  in  4  her  filmy  things  she  lay,  a  white 
rose  blown  into  a  sheltered  nook.  After  a  little 
she  wiped  her  eyes  and  said  more  naturally : 

"You  look  perfectly  dreadfully,  boy!  What 
have  you  been  doing  with  yourself?" 

They  had  reached  the  Savoy.  It  seemed  to 
Dan  they  were  always  just  driving  up  to  where 
some  one  opened  a  door,  out  of  which  she  was  to 
fly  away  from  him.  He  got  out  before  her  and 
helped  her  from  the  car. 

"Well,  I've  got  a  piece  of  news  to  tell  you.  I 
have  broken  my  engagement  with  the  duchess." 

This  brought  her  back  far  enough  into  life  to 
make  her  exclaim:  "Oh,  I  am  glad!  That's 
perfectly  fine!  I  don't  know  when  I've  heard 
anything  that  pleased  me  so  much.  Come  and 
see  me  to-morrow  and  tell  me  all  about  it." 
230 


CHAPTER  XXI 

KUGGLES  RETURNS 

DAN  did  not  fall  asleep  until  morning,  and 
then  he  dreamed  of  Blairtown  and  the 
church  and  a  summer  evening  and  something 
like  the  drone  of  the  flies  on  the  window-pane 
soothed  him,  and  came  into  his  waking  thoughts, 
for  at  noon  he  was  violently  shaken  by  the  shoul- 
der and  a  man's  voice  called  him  as  he  opened  his 
eyes  and  looked  into  Ruggles'  face. 

"Gee  Whittaker !"  Ruggles  exclaimed.  "You 
are  one  of  the  seven  sleepers!  I've  been  here 
something  like  seventeen  minutes,  whistling  and 
making  all  kinds  of  barnyard  noises." 

As  Dan  welcomed  him,  rubbing  the  sleep  from 
his  eyes,  Ruggles  told  him  that  he  had  come  over 
"the  pond"  just  for  the  wedding. 

"There  isn't  going  to  be  any  wedding,  Josh! 
Got  out  of  all  that  last  night." 

Ruggles  had  the  breakfast  card  in  his  hand, 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

which  the  waiter  had  brought  in,  and  Dan,  tak- 
ing it  from  his  friend,  ordered  a  big  breakfast. 

"I'm  as  hungry  as  the  dickens,  Rug,  and  I 
guess  you  are,  too." 

"What  was  the  matter  with  the  duchess?" 
Ruggles  asked.  "Were  you  too  young  for  her, 
or  not  rich  enough?" 

Significantly  the  boy  answered:  "One  too 
many,  Josh,"  and  Ruggles  winced  at  the  re- 
sponse. 

"Here  are  the  fellows  with  my  trunks  and 
things,"  he  announced  as  the  porters  came  in 
with  his  luggage.  "Just  drop  them  there,  boys ; 
they're  going  to  fix  some  kind  of  a  room  later." 

Blair's  long  silk-lined  coat  lay  on  a  chair  where 
he  had  flung  it,  his  hat  beside  it,  and  Ruggles 
went  over  to  the  corner  and  lifted  up  a  fragrant 
glove.  It  was  one  of  Letty  Lane's  gloves  which 
Dan  had  found  in  the  motor  and  taken  possession 
of.  The  young  man  had  gone  to  his  dressing- 
room  and  begun  running  his  bath,  and  Ruggles, 
laying  the  glove  on  the  table,  said  to  himself : 


RUGGLES   RETURNS 

"I  knew  he  would  get  rid  of  the  duchess,  all 
right" 

But  when  Dan  came  back  into  the  room  later 
in  his  dressing-gown  for  breakfast,  Ruggles 
said: 

"You'll  have  to  send  her  back  her  glove, 
Dannie." 

At  the  sight  of  it  beside  the  breakfast  tray, 
Dan  blushed  scarlet.  He  picked  up  the  fragrant 
object. 

"That's  all  right;  I'll  take  care  of  it." 

"Is  Mandalay  running  the  same  as  ever?" 
Ruggles  asked  over  his  bacon  and  eggs. 

"Same  as  ever." 

Ruggles  saw  he  had  not  returned  in  vain,  and 
that  he  was  destined  to  take  up  his  part  of  the 
business  just  as  he  had  laid  it  out  for  himself 
to  Lord  Galorey.  "It's  up  to  me  now :  I'll  have 
to  take  care  of  the  actress,  and  I'm  darned 
if  I  haven't  got  a  job.  If  Dan  colors  up  like 
that  at  the  sight  of  her  glove,  I  wonder  what  he 
does  when  he  holds  her  hand !" 


CHAPTER  XXII 

WHAT   WILL  YOU   TAKE? 

WHEN  Dan,  on  the  minute  o'f  two,  went 
to  the  Savoy,  Higgins,  as  was  her  cus- 
tom, idid  not  meet  him.  Miss  Lane  met  him 
herself.  She  was  reading  a  letter  by  the  table, 
and  when  Dan  was  announced  she  put  it  back 
in  its  envelope.  Blair  had  seen  her  only  in 
soft  clinging  evening  dresses,  in  white  vision- 
ary clothes,  or  in  her  dazzling  part  costume, 
where  the  play  dress  of  the  dancer  displayed  her 
beauty  and  her  charms.  To-day  she  wore  a 
tailor-made  gown,  and  in  her  dark  cloth  dress, 
in  her  small  hat,  she  seemed  a  new  woman — some 
one  he  hadn't  known  and  did  not  know,  and  he 
experienced  the  thrill  a  man  always  feels  when 
the  woman  he  loves  appears  in  an  unaccustomed 
dress  and  suggests  a  new  mystery. 

"Oh,  I  say !    You're  not  going  out,  are  you?" 
234 


WHAT    WILL   YOU    TAKE? 

In  the  lapel  of  her  close  little  coat  was  a  flower 
he  had  given  her.  He  wanted  to  lean  forward 
and  kiss  it  as  it  rested  there.  She  assured  him : 

"I  have  just  come  in ;  had  an  early  lunch  and 
took  a  long  walk — think  of  it !  I  haven't  taken 
a  walk  alone  since  I  can  remember !" 

Her  walk  had  given  her  only  the  ghost  of  a 
flush,  which  rose  over  her  delicate  skin,  fading 
away  like  a  furling  flag.  Her  frailness,  her 
slenderness,  the  air  of  good-breeding  her  dress 
gave  her,  added  to  Dan's  deepening  emotions. 
She  seemed  infinitely  dear,  and  a  thing  to  be 
protected  and  fostered. 

"Can't  you  sit  down  for  a  minute?  I've  come 
to  make  you  a  real  call." 

"Of  course,"  she  laughed.  "But,  first,  I  must 
answer  this  letter." 

His  jealousy  rose  and  he  caught  hold  of 
her  hand  that  held  the  envelope.  "Look  here, 
you  are  not  to  write  it  if  it  is  to  that  damned 
scoundrel.  I  took  you  away  from  him  last  night 
and  you  are  never  to  see  him  again." 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN" 

For  the  first  time  the  two  really  looked  at 
each  other.  Her  lips  parted  as  though  she  would 
reprove  him,  and  the  boy  murmured : 

"That's  all  right.  I  mean  what  I  say — never 
to  see  him  again!  Will  you  promise  me?  Prom- 
ise me — I  can't  bear  it !  I  won't  have  it !" 

'A  film  of  emotion  crossed  his  clear  young  eyes 
and  her  slender  hands  were  held  fast  in  his  clasp. 
His  face  was  beautiful  in  its  tenderness  and  in  a 
righteous  anger  as  he  bent  it  on  her.  Instead 
of  reproving  him  as  she  had  done  before,  instead 
of  snatching  away  her  hands,  she  swayed,  and 
at  the  sight  of  her  weakness  his  eyes  cleared,  and 
the  film  lifted  like  a  curtain.  She  was  not  faint- 
ing, but,  as  her  face  turned  toward  his,  he  saw 
it  transformed,  and  Dan  caught  her  in  her  dark 
dress,  the  flowers  in  her  bodice,  to  his  heart.  He 
held  her  as  if  he  had  snatched  her  from  a  wreck 
and  in  a  safe  embrace  lifted  her  high  to  the 
shore  of  a  coral  strand.  He  kissed  her,  first  tim- 
idly, wonderingly,  with  the  sacrament  of  first 
love  on  his  lips.  Then  he  kissed  her  as  his  heart 
236 


WHAT    WILL   YOU   TAKE? 

bade  him,  and  when  he  set  her  free  she  was  cry- 
ing, but  the  tears  on  his  face  were  not  all  her 
tears. 

"Little  boy,  how  crazy,  how  perfectly  crazy ! 
Oh,  Dan — Dan !" 

She  clung  to  him,  looking  up  at  him  just  as 
his  boy-dreams  had  told  him  a  girl  would  look 
some  day.  Her  face  was  suffused  and  softened, 
her  lips — her  coral-red,  fine,  lovely  lips  were 
trembling,  and  her  eyes  were  as  gray,  as  pro- 
found as  those  seas  his  imagination  had  longed 
to  explore.  Made  poet  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life,  as  his  arms  were  around  her,  he  whispered : 
"You  are  all  my  dreams  come  true.  If  any  man 
comes  near  you  I'll  kill  him  just  as  sure  as  fate. 
I'll  kill  him!" 

"Hush,  hush!  I  told  you  you  were  crazy. 
We're  both  perfectly  mad.  I  have  tried  my  best 
not  to  come  to  this  with  you.  What  would  your 
father  say  ?  Let  me  go,  let  me  go ;  I'll  call  Hig- 
gins." 

The  boy  laughed  aloud,  the  laugh  of  happy 
237 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

youth.  He  held  her  so  close  that  she  might  as 
well  have  tried  to  loose  herself  from  an  iron  im- 
age of  the  Spanish  Inquisition  as  from  his 
young  arms.  This  slender,  delicious,  willowy 
thing  he  held  was  Letty  Lane,  the  adored  star 
London  went  mad  over:  the  triumph  of  it!  It 
flashed  through  him  as  his  pulses  beat  and  his 
heart  was  high  with  the  conquest,  but  it  was  to 
the  woman  only  that  he  whispered : 

"I've  said  a  lot  of  stuff  and  I  am  likely  to  say 
a  lot  more,  but  I  want  you  to  say  something  to 
me.  Don't  you  love  me?" 

The  word  on  his  lips  to  him  was  as  strange, 
as  wonderful,  as  though  it  had  been  made  for 
him. 

"I  guess  I  must  love  you,  Dan.  I  guess  I 
must  have  for  a  long  time." 

"God,  I'm  so  glad !    How  long?" 

"Why,  ever  since  you  used  to  come  to  the  soda 
fountain  and  ask  for  chocolate.  You  don't  know 
how  sweet  you  were  when  you  were  a  little  boy." 

She  put  her  slender  hand  against  his  hot- 
238 


WHAT    WILL   YOU    TAKE? 

cheek.  "And  you  are  nothing  but  a  little  boy 
now !  I  think  I  must  be  crazy !" 

As  he  protested,  as  she  listened  intently  to 
what  his  emotion  taught  him  to  say  to  her,  she 
whispered  close  to  his  ear : 

"What  will  you  take,  little  boy?" 

And  he  answered :    "I'll  take  you — you !" 

At  a  slight  sound  in  the  next  room  Letty  Lane 
started  as  though  the  interruption  really 
brought  her  to  her  senses,  put  her  hand  to  her 
disheveled  hair,  and  before  she  could  prevent  it, 
Dan  had  called  Mrs  Higgins  to  "come  in,"  and 
the  woman,  in  response,  came  into  the  sitting- 
room.  The  boy  went  up  to  her  and  took  her 
hands  eagerly,  and  said : 

"It's  all  right,  all  right,  Mrs.  Higgins.  Just 
think  of  it !  She  belongs  to  me !" 

"Oh,  don't  be  a  perfect  lunatic,  Dan,"  the 
actress  exclaimed,  half  laughing,  half  crying, 
"and  don't  listen  to  him,  Higgins.  He's  just 
crazy." 

But  the  old  woman's  eyes  went  bright  at  the 
239 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

boy's  face  and  tone.  "I  never  was  so  glad  of 
anything  in  my  life." 

"As  of  what?"  asked  her  mistress  sharply, 
and  the  tone  was  so  cold  and  so  suddenly  altered 
that  Dan  felt  a  chill  of  despair. 

"Why,  at  what  Mr.  Blair  says,  Miss." 

"Then,"  said  her  mistress,  "you  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  yourself.  He's  only  twenty-two, 
he  doesn't  know  anything  about  life.  You  must 
be  crazy.  He's  as  mad  as  a  March  hare  and  he 
ought  to  be  in  school." 

Then,  to  their  consternation,  she  burst  into  a 
passion  of  weeping;  threw  herself  on  Higgins' 
breast  and  begged  her  to  send  Dan  away — to 
send  everybody  away — and  to  let  Her  die  in 
peace. 

In  utter  despair  the  boy  obeyed  the  dresser's 
motion  to  go,  and  his  transport  was  changed 
into  anxiety  and  dread.  He  hung  about  down- 
stairs in  the  Savoy  for  the  rest  of  the  afternoon, 
finally  sending  up  to  Higgins  for  news  in  sheer 
desperation,  and  the  page  fetched  Blair  a  note 
240 


WHAT   WILL   YOU   TAKE? 

in  Letty  Lane's  own  hand.  His  eyes  blurred  so 
as  he  opened  the  sheet,  he  could  hardly  read  the 
scrawl  which  said : 

"It  was  perfectly  sweet  of  you  to  wait  down 
there.  I'm  all  right — just  tired  out!  Better 
get  on  a  boat  and  go  to  Greenland's  Icy  Moun- 
tains and  cool  off.  But  if  you  don't,  come  in  to- 
morrow and  have  lunch  with  me.  LETTY." 


241 


CHAPTER  XXHI 

IN    THE    SUNSET    GLOW 

HE  LIVED  through  a  week  of  bliss  and  of 
torture.  One  minute  she  promised  to 
marry  him,  give  up  the  stage,  go  around  the 
world  on  a  yacht,  whose  luxuries,  Dan  planned, 
should  rival  any  boat  ever  built,  or  they  would 
motor  across  Asia  and  see,  one  by  one,  the  vari- 
ous coral  strands  and  the  golden  sands  of  the 
East.  He  could  not  find  terms  to  express  how 
he  would  spend  upon  her  this  fortune  of  his, 
which,  for  the  first  time,  began  to  have  value  in 
his  eyes.  Money  had  been  lavished  on  her, 
still  she  seemed  dazzled.  Then  she  would  push 
it  all  away  from  her  in  disgust — tell  him  she 
was  sick  of  everything — that  she  didn't  want 
any  new  jewels  or  any  new  clothes,  and  that  she 
never  wanted  to  see  the  stage  again  or  any  place 


IN    THE    SUNSET   GLOW 

again ;  that  there  was  nowhere  she  wanted  to  go, 
nothing  she  wanted  to  see — that  he  must  get 
some  fresh  girl  to  whom  he  could  show  life,  not 
one  whom  he  must  try  to  make  forget  it.  Then, 
again,  she  would  say  that  she  loved  the  stage  and 
her  art — wouldn't  give  it  up  for  any  one  in  the 
world — that  it  was  fatal  to  marry  an  actress — 
that  it  was  mad  for  him  to  think  of  marrying 
her,  anyway — that  she  didn't  want  to  marry  any 
one  and  be  tied  down — that  she  wanted  to  be  her 
own  mistress  and  free. 

He  found  her  a  creature  of  a  thousand 
whims  and  caprices,  quick  to  cry,  quick  to  laugh, 
divine  in  everything  she  did.  He  never 
knew  what  she  would  want  him  to  do  next,  or 
how  her  mood  would  change,  and  after  one  of 
their  happiest  hours,  when  she  had  been  like  a 
girl  with  him,  she  would  burst  into  tears,  beg 
him  to  leave  the  room,  telling  him  that  she  was 
tired — tired — tired,  and  wanted  to  go  to  sleep 
a\nd  never  to  wake  up  again.  Between  them  was 
tlve  figure  of  Poniotowsky,  though  neither  spoke 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

of  him.  She  appeared  to  have  forgotten  him. 
Dan  would  rather  have  cut  out  his  tongue  than 
to  speak  his  name,  and  yet  he  was  there  in  the 
mind  of  each.  During  the  fortnight  Dan  spent 
thousands  of  pounds  on  her,  bought  her  jewels 
which  she  alternately  raved  over  or  but  half 
looked  at.  He  had  made  his  arrangements  with 
Galorey  peacefully,  coolly  and  between  the  two 
men  it  had  been  understood  that  the  world 
should  think  the  engagement  broken  by  the  duch- 
ess, and  Dan's  attention  to  Letty  Lane,  already 
the  subject  of  much  comment,  already  conspicu- 
ous, was  enough  to  justify  any  woman  in  taking 
offense. 

One  day,  the  pearl  of  warm  May  days,  when 
England  even  in  springtime  touches  summer, 
Blair  was  so  happy  as  to  persuade  his  sweet- 
heart to  go  with  him  for  a  little  row  on  the  river. 
The  young  fellow  waited  for  her  in  the  boat  he 
had  secured,  and  she,  motoring  out  with  Hig- 
gins,  had  appeared,  running  down  to  the  edge 
of  the  water  like  a  girl,  gay  as  a  child  let  out 
£44 


IN   THE    SUNSET    GLOW 

from  school,  in  a  simple  frock,  in  a  marvelousty 
fetching  hat,  white  gloves,  white  parasol,  whitf 
shoes,  and  as  Dan  helped  her  into  the  boat, 
pushed  it  out,  pushed  away  with  her  on  the  crest 
of  the  sun-flecked  waters,  spring  was  in  his 
heart,  and  he  found  the  moment  almost  too  great 
to  bear. 

The  actress  had  been  a  girl  with  him  all 
day,  giving  herself  to  his  moods,  doing  what 
he  liked  without  demur,  talking  of  their  mutual 
past,  telling  him  one  amusing  story  after  an- 
other, proving  herself  an  ideal  companion, 
fresh,  varied,  reposeful ;  and  no  one  to  have  seen 
Letty  Lane  with  the  boy  on  that  afternoon  would 
have  dreamed  that  she  ever  had  known  another 
love.  They  had  moored  their  boat  down  near 
Maidenhead,  and  he  had  helped  her  up  the  bank 
to  the  little  inn,  where  tea  had  been  made  for 
them,  and  served  to  him  by  her  own  beautiful 
white  hands.  He  had  called  for  strawberries, 
and,  like  a  shepherd  in  a  pastoral,  had  fed  them 
to  her,  and  as  they  lingered  the  sunset  came 
245 


THE    GIRL    FROM   HIS    TOWN 

creeping  steadily  in  through  the  windows  where 
they  sat. 

As  they  neither  called  for  their  account  nor 
to  have  the  tea  things  taken  away,  after  a  while 
the  woman  stealthily  opened  the  door  and,  un- 
known, looked  at  one  of  the  prettiest  pictures 
ever  within  her  walls.  Letty  Lane  sat  on  the 
window-seat,  her  golden  head,  her  white  form 
against  the  glow,  and  the  boy  by  her  side  had 
his  arms  around  her,  and  her  head  was  on  his 
breast.  They  were  both  young.  They  might 
have  been  white  birds  blown  in  there,  nesting  in 
the  humble  inn,  and  the  woman  of  the  house, 
who  had  not  heard  the  waters  of  the  Thames 
flow  softly  for  nothing,  judged  them  gently  and 
sighed  with  pleasure  as  she  shut  the  door. 

Here  at  Maidenhead  Dan  had  left  his  boat 
and  the  motor  took  them  back.  Nothing  spoiled 
his  bliss  that  day,  and  he  said  her  name  a  thou- 
sand times  that  night  in  his  dreams.  Jealousies 
— and,  when  he  would  let  himself  think,  they  were 
not  one,  they  were  many — faded  away.  The 
246 


IN    THE    SUNSET   GLOW 

duties  that  a  life  with  her  would  involve  did  not 
disturb  him.  For  many  a  long  year,  come  what 
might,  be  what  would,  he  would  recall  the  glow- 
ing of  that  sunset  reflected  under  the  inn  win- 
dows, the  singing  of  the  thrushes  and  the  flash 
of  the  white  dress  and  the  fine  little  white  shoes 
which  he  had  held  in  the  palm  of  his  ardent 
hand,  which  he  had  kissed,  as  he  told  her  with  all 
his  heart  that  she  should  rest  her  tired  feet  for 
ever. 

There  grew  in  him  that  day  a  reverence  for 
her,  determined  as  he  was  to  bring  into  her  life 
by  his  wealth  and  devotion  everything  of  good. 
His  loving  plans  for  her  forming  in  his  brain 
somewhat  chaotic  and  very  much  fevered, 
brought  him  nearer  than  he  had  ever  been  be- 
fore to  the  picture  of  his  mother.  His  father 
it  wasn't  easy  for  Dan  to  think  of  in  connection 
with  the  actress.  He  didn't  dare  to  dwell  on 
the  subject,  but  he  had  never  known  his  mother, 
and  that  pale  ideal  he  could  create  as  he  would. 
In  thinking  of  her  he  saw  only  tenderness  for 
247 


THE   GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

Letty  Lane — only  love;  and  in  his  room  the 
night  after  the  row  on  the  river,  the  night  after 
the  long  idyl  in  the  sunset-room  of  the  inn, 
something  like  a  prayer  came  to  his  young  lips, 
and,  when  its  short  form  was  finished,  a  smile 
brought  it  to  an  end  as  he  remembered  the  line 
in  Letty  Lane's  own  opera : 

"She  will  teach  you  how  to  pray  in  an  Eastern 
form  of  prayer." 

The  ring  he  had  given  the  Duchess  of  Break- 
water had  been  her  own  choice,  a  ruby.  He  had 
asked  her,  through  Galorey,  to  keep  it  and  to 
wear  it  later,  when  she  could  think  of  him  kind- 
ly, in  an  ornament  of  some  kind  or  another.  The 
duchess  had  not  refused.  The  ring  he  bought 
for  Letty  Lane,  although  there  was  no  engage- 
ment announced  between  them,  was  the  largest, 
purest  diamond  he  could  with  decency  ask  her 
to  put  on  her  hand!  It  sparkled  like  a  great 
drop  of  clear  water  from  some  fountain  on  a 
magic  continent.  In  another  shop  strands  of 
248 


IN    THE    SUNSET   GLOW 

pink  coral  set  through  with  diamonds  caught 
his  fancy  and  he  bought  her  yards  of  them, 
ropes  of  them,  smiling  to  think  how  his  boy- 
hood's dreams  were  come  true. 

He  never  saw  Ruggles  except  at  meals,  hardly 
spoke  to  the  poor  man  at  all,  and  the  boy's 
absorbed  face,  his  state  of  mind,  made  the  older 
man  feel  like  death.  He  repeated  to  himself 
that  he  was  too  late — too  late,  and  usually 
wound  up  his  reflections  by  ejaculating: 

"Gosh  almighty,  I'm  glad  I  haven't  got  a 
son!" 


249 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


HE  FELT  as  he  waited  for  her  in  that 
flower-filled  room,  for  she  had  recovered 
from  her  distaste  for  flowers,  as  he  glanced  at 
the  photographs  of  women  like  herself  in  cos- 
tumes more  or  less  frank,  more  or  less  vulgar,  he 
felt  as  though  he  wanted  to  knock  down  the  walls 
and  let  in  a  big  view  of  the  West — of  Montana 
— of  the  hills.  With  such  a  setting  he  thought 
he  could  better  talk  with  the  lady  whom  he  had 
come  to  see. 

Ruggles  held  an  unlighted  cigar  between  his 
fingers  and  goose-flesh  rose  all  over  him.  His 
glasses  bothered  him.  He  couldn't  get  them 
bright  enough,  though  he  polished  them  half  a 
dozen  times  on  his  silk  handkerchief.  His  clothes 
felt  toe  large.  He  seemed  to  have  shrunken.  He 
250 


RUGGLES'  OFFER 

moistened  his  lips,  cleared  his  throat,  tried  to  re- 
member what  kind  of  fellow  he  had  been  at 
Dan's  age.  At  Dan's  age  he  was  selling  a  sus- 
pender patent  on  the  road,  supporting  his 
mother  and  his  sisters — hard  work  and  few 
temptations ;  he  was  too  tired  and  too  poor. 

Miss  Lane  kept  him  waiting  ten  minutes,  and 
they  were  hours  to  her  guest.  He  was  afraid 
every  minute  that  Dan  would  come  in.  The 
thoughts  he  had  gathered  together,  the  plan  of 
action,  disarranged  itself  in  his  mind  every  time 
he  thought  of  the  actress.  He  couldn't  forget 
his  vision  of  her  on  the  stage  or  at  the  Carl- 
ton,  where  she  had  sat  opposite  them  and 
bewitched  them  both.  When  she  came  into  the 
sitting-room  at  length,  he  started  so  violently 
that  he  knocked  over  a  vase  of  flowers,  the  water 
trickling  all  over  the  table  down  on  to  the  floor. 

She  had  dazzled  him  before  the  footlights, 

charmed  him  at  dinner,  and  it  was  singular  to 

think   that  he  knew   how  this   dignified,   quiet 

creature  looked  in  ballet  clothes  and  in  a  dinner 

251 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

dress,  whose  frankness  had  made  him  catch  his 
breath.  It  was  a  third  woman  who  stood  before 
Ruggles  now.  He  had  to  take  her  into  consid- 
eration. She  had  expected  him,  saw  him  by  ap- 
pointment. She  was  a  woman  of  mind  and  intelli- 
gence. She  had  not  climbed  to  her  starry  posi- 
tion without  having  acquired  a  knowledge  of  men, 
and  it  was  the  secret  of  her  success.  She  showed 
it  in  the  dress  in  which  she  received  her  visitor. 
She  wore  a  short  walking  skirt  of  heavy  serge, 
a  simple  shirtwaist  belted  around,  a  sailor  hat 
on  her  beautiful  little  head.  She  was  un jew- 
eled and  unpainted,  very  pale  and  very  sweet. 
If  it  had  not  been  for  the  marks  of  fatigue  un- 
der her  eyes,  she  would  not  have  looked  more 
than  eighteen.  On  her  left  hand  a  single  dia- 
mond, clear  as  water,  caught  the  refracted  light. 
"How-de-do  ?  Glad  you  are  back  again." 
She  gave  him  a  big  chair  and  sat  down  before 
him  smiling.  Leaning  her  elbows  on  her  knees, 
she  sank  her  face  upon  her  hands  and  looked  at 
him,  not  coquettishly  in  the  least,  but  as  a  child 


RUGGLES'   OFFER 

might  have  looked.    From  her  small  feet  to  her 
golden  head  she  was  utterly  charming. 

Ruggles  made  himself  think  of  Dan.  Miss 
Lane  spoke  slowly,  nodding  toward  him,  in  her 
languid  voice:  "It's  no  use,  Mr.  Ruggles,  no 
use." 

Holding  her  face  between  her  hands,  her  eyes 
gray  as  winter's  seas  and  as  profound,  she 
looked  at  him  intently;  then,  in  a  flash,  she 
changed  her  position  and  instantly  transformed 
her  character.  He  saw  that  she  was  a  woman, 
not  an  eighteen-year-old  girl,  but  a  woman,  clev- 
er, poised,  witty,  understanding,  and  that  she 
might  have  been  twenty  years  older  than  the  boy. 

"I'm  sorry  you  spoke  so  quick,"  he  said. 

"I  knew,"  she  interrupted,  "just  what  you 
wanted  to  say  from  the  start.  I  couldn't  help  it, 
could  I?  I  knew  you  would  want  to  come  and 
see  me  about  it.  It  isn't  any  use.  I  know  just 
what  you  are  going  to  say." 

"No,  ma'am,"  he  returned,  "I  iJon't  believe 
you  do — bright  as  you  are." 
253 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

Ruggles  gazed  thoughtfully  at  the  cold  end 
of  his  unlighted  cigar.  It  was  a  comfort  to  him 
to  hold  it  and  to  look  at  it,  although  not  for 
anything  in  the  world  would  he  have  asked  to 
light  it. 

"Dan's  father  and  me  were  chums.  We  went 
through  pretty  much  together,  and  I  know  how 
he  felt  on  most  points.  He  was  a  man  of  few 
words,  but  I  know  he  counted  on  me  to  stand  by 
the  boy." 

Ruggles  was  so  chivalrous  that  his  role  at 
present  cost  him  keen  discomfort. 

"A  lady  like  you,"  he  said  gently,  "knows  a 
great  deal  more  about  how  things  are  done  than 
either  Dan  or  me.  We  ain't  tenderfeet  in  the 
West,  not  by  a  long  shot,  but  we  see  so  few  of 
a  certain  kind  of  picture  shows  that  when  they 
do  come  round  they're  likely  to  make  us  lose  our 
minds !  You  know,  yourself,  a  circus  in  a  town 
fifty  miles  from  a  railroad  drives  the  people 
crazy.  Now,  Dan's  a  little  like  the  boy  with  his 
eyes  on  the  hole  in  the  tent.  He  would  commit 


RUGGLES'   OFFER 

murder  to  get  inside  and  see  that  show."  He 
nodded  and  smiled  to  her  as  though  he  expected 
her  to  follow  his  crude  simile.  "Now,  I  have 
seen  you  a  lot  of  times."  And  she  couldn't  help 
reminding  him,  "Not  of  your  own  accord,  Mr. 
Ruggles." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  he  slowly  admitted;  "I 
always  felt  I  had  my  money's  worth,  and  the 
night  you  ate  with  us  at  the  Carlton  I  under- 
stood pretty  well  how  the  boy  with  his  eyes  at 
the  tent  hole  would  feel."  But  he  tapped  his 
broad  chest  with  the  hand  that  held  the  cigar 
between  the  first  and  second  fingers.  "I  know 
just  what  kind  of  a  heart  you've  got,  for  I 
waited  at  the  stage  door  and  I  know  you  don't 
get  all  your  applause  inside  the  Gaiety  The- 
ater." 

"Goodness,"  she  murmured,  "they  make  an 
awful  fuss  about  nothing." 

"Now,"  he  continued,  leaning  forward  a  trifle 
toward  her  languid,  half  interested  figure,  "I 
just  want  you  to  think  of  him  as  a  little  boy. 
255 


THE    GIRL   FROM    HIS    TOWN 

He's  only  twenty-two.  He  knows  nothing  of  the 
world.  The  money  you  give  to  the  poor  doesn't 
come  so  hard  perhaps  as  this  will.  It's  a  big 
sacrifices  but  I  want  you  to  let  the  boy  go." 

She  smiled  slightly,  found  her  handkerchief, 
which  was  tucked  up  the  cuff  of  her  blouse, 
pressed  the  little  bit  of  linen  to  her  lips  as 
though  to  steady  them,  then  she  asked  abruptly : 

"What  has  he  said  to  you?" 

"Lord !"  Ruggles  groaned.  "Said  to  me !  My 
dear  young  lady,  he  is  much  too  rude  to  speak. 
Dan  sort  of  breathes  and  snorts  around  like  a 
lunatic.  He  was  dangling  around  that  duchess 
when  I  was  here  before,  but  she  didn't  scare  me 
any." 

And  Letty  Lane,  now  smiling  at  him,  relieved 
by  his  break  from  a  more  intense  tone,  asked : 

"Now,  you  are  scared?" 

"Well,"  Ruggles  drawled,  "I  was  pretty  sure 
that  woman  didn't  care  anything  for  the  boy. 
Are  you  her  kind?" 

It  was  the  best  stroke  he  had  made.     She  al- 
most sprang  up  from  her  chair. 
856 


RUGGLES'   OFFER 

"Heavens,"  she  exclaimed,  "I  guess  I'm  not !" 
Her  face  flushed. 

"I  had  rather  see  a  son  of  mine  dead  than 
married  to  a  woman  like  that,"  he  said. 

"Why,  Mr.  Ruggles,"  she  exclaimed  passion- 
ately, addressing  him  with  interest  for  the  first 
time,  "what  do  you  know  about  me?  What? 
What?  You  have  seen  me  dance  and  heard  me 
sing." 

And  he  interrupted  her. 

"Ten  times,  and  you  are  a  bully  dancer  and  a 
bully  singer,  but  you  do  other  things  than  dance 
and  sing.  There  is  not  a  man  living  that  would 
want  to  have  his  mother  dress  that  way." 

She  controlled  a  smile.  "Never  mind  that. 
People's  opinions  are  very  different  about  that 
sort  of  thing.  You  have  seen  me  at  dinner  with 
your  boy,  as  you  call  him,  and  you  can't  say  that 
I  did  anything  but  ask  him  to  help  the  poor.  I 
haven't  led  Dan  on.  I  have  tried  to  show  him 
just  what  you  are  making  me  go  through  now." 

If  she  acted  well  and  danced  well,  it  was  hard 
for  her  to  talk.  She  was  evidently  under  strong 
257 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

emotion  and  it  needed  her  control  not  to  burst 
into  tears  and  lose  her  chance. 

"Of  course,  I  know  the  things  you  have  heard. 
Of  course,  I  know  what  is  said  about  me" — and 
she  stopped. 

Ruggles  didn't  press  her  any  further;  he 
didn't  ask  her  if  the  things  were  true.  Looking 
at  her  as  he  did,  watching  her  as  he  did,  there 
was  in  him  a  feeling  so  new,  so  troubling  that  he 
found  himself  more  anxious  to  protect  her  than 
to  bring  her  to  justice. 

"There  are  worse,  far  worse  women  than  I  am, 
Mr.  Ruggles.  I  will  never  do  Dan  any  harm." 

Here  her  visitor  leaned  forward  and  put  one 
of  his  big  hands  lightly  over  one  of  hers,  patted 
it  a  moment,  and  said : 

"I  want  you  to  do  a  great  deal  better  than 
that." 

She  had  picked  up  a  photograph  off  the  table, 
a  pretty  picture  of  herself  in  Mandalay,  and 
turned  it  nervously  between  her  fingers  as  she 
said  with  irritation : 

258 


RUGGLES'   OFFER 

"I  haven't  been  in  the  theatrical  world  not  to 
guess  at  this  'Worried  Father'  act,  Mr.  Rug- 
gles.  I  told  you  I  knew  just  what  you  were  go- 
ing to  say." 

"Wrong!"  he  repeated.  "The  business  is  old 
enough  perhaps,  lots  of  good  jobs  are  old,  but 
this  is  a  little  different." 

He  took  the  turning  picture  and  laid  it  on  the 
table,  and  quietly  possessed  himself  of  the  small 
cold  hands.  Blair's  solitaire  shone  up  to  him. 
Ruggles  looked  into  Letty  Lane's  eyes.  "He  is 
only  twenty-two ;  it  ain't  fair,  it  ain't  fair.  He 
could  count  the  times  he  has  been  on  a  lark,  I 
guess.  He  hasn't  even  been  to  an  eastern  college. 
He  is  no  fool,  but  he's  darned  simple." 

She  smiled  faintly.  The  man's  face,  near  her 
own,  was  very  simple  indeed. 

"You  have  seen  so  much,"  he  urged,  "so 
many  fellows.  You  have  been  such  a  queen,  I 
dare  say  you  could  get  any  man  you  wanted." 
He  repeated.  "Most  any  one." 

"I  have  never  seen  any  one  like  Dan." 
259 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

" Just  so :  He  ain't  your  kind.  That  is  what  I 
am  trying  to  tell  you." 

She  withdrew  her  hand  from  his  violently. 

"There  you  are  wrong.  He  is  my  kind.  He 
is  what  I  like,  and  he  is  what  I  want  to  be  like." 

A  wave  of  red  dyed  her  face,  and,  in  a  tone 
more  passionate  than  she  had  ever  used  to  her 
lover,  she  said  to  Ruggles : 

"I  love  him — I  love  him!"  Her  words  sent 
something  like  a  sword  through  the  older  man's 
heart.  He  said  gently:  "Don't  say  it.  He 
don't  know  what  love  means  yet." 

He  wanted  to  tell  her  that  the  girl  Dan  mar- 
ried should  be  the  kind  of  woman  his  mother 
was,  but  Ruggles  couldn't  bring  himself  to  say 
the  words.  Now,  as  he  sat  near  her,  he  was 
growing  so  complex  that  his  brain  was  turning 
round.  He  heard  her  murmur : 

"I  told  you  I  knew  your  act,  Mr.  Ruggles.  It 
isn't  any  use." 

This  brought  him  back  to  his  position  and 
once  more  he  leaned  toward  her  and,  in  a  differ- 
260 


RUGGLES'  OFFER 

ent  tone  from  the  one  he  had  intended  to  use, 
murmured : 

"You  don't  know.  You  haven't  any  idea.  I 
do  ask  you  to  let  Dan  go,  that's  a  fact.  I  have 
got  something  else  to  propose  in  its  place.  It 
ain't  quite  the  same,  but  it  is  clear — marry  me !" 

She  gave  a  little  exclamation.  A  slight  smile 
rippled  over  her  face  like  the  sunset  across  a 
pale  pool  at  dawn. 

"Laugh,"  he  said  humbly ;  "don't  keep  in.  I 
know  I  am  old-fashioned  as  the  deuce,  and  me 
and  Dan  is  quite  a  contrast,  but  I  mean  just 
what  I  say,  my  dear." 

She  controlled  her  amusement,  if  it  was  that. 
It  almost  made  her  cry  with  mirth,  and  she 
couldn't  help  it.  Between  laughing  breaths  she 
said  to  him : 

"Oh,  is  it  all  for  Dan's  sake,  Mr.  Ruggles? 
Is  it  ?"  And  then,  biting  her  lips  and  looking  at 
him  out  of  her  wonderful  eyes,  she  said:  "I 
know  it  is — I  know  it  Is — I  beg  your  pardon." 

"I  asked  a  girl  once  when  I  was  poor — too 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

poor.  Now  this  is  the  second  time  in  my  life. 
I  mean  just  what  I  say.  I'll  make  you  a  kind 
husband.  I  am  fifty-five,  hale  as  a  nut.  I  dare 
say  you  have  had  many  better  offers." 

"Oh,  dear,"  she  breathed;  "oh,  dear,  please— 
please  stop!" 

"But  I  don't  expect  you  to  marry  me  for  any- 
thing but  my  money." 

Ruggles  put  his  cigar  down  on  the  edge  of 
the  table.  He  looked  at  his  chair  meditatively, 
he  took  out  his  silk  handkerchief,  polished  up  his 
glasses,  readjusted  them,  put  them  on  and  then 
looked  at  her. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "I  am  going  to  trust  you 
with  something,  and  I  know  you  will  keep  my 
secret  for  me.  This  shows  you  a  little  bit  of 
what  I  think  about  you.  Dan  Blair  hasn't  got  a 
red  cent.  He  has  nothing  but  what  I  give  him. 
There's  a  false  title  to  all  that  land  on  the  Bent- 
ley  claim.  The  whole  thing  came  up  when  I  was 
home  and  the  original  company,  of  which  I  own 
three-quarters  of  the  stock,  holds  the  clear  titles 
262 


RUGGLES'  OFFER 

to  the  Blairtown  mines.  It  all  belongs  now  to 
me,  if  I  choose  to  present  my  documents.  Dan 
knows  nothing  about  this — not  a  word." 

The  actress  had  never  come  up  to  such  a  dra- 
matic point  in  any  of  her  plays.  With  her  hands 
folded  in  her  lap  she  looked  at  him  steadily,  and 
he  could  not  understand  the  expression  that 
crossed  her  face.  He  heard  her  exclamation: 
"Oh,  gracious!" 

"I've  brought  the  papers  back  with  me,"  said 
the  Westerner,  "and  it  is  between  you  and  me 
how  we  act.  If  Dan  marries  you  I  will  be  bound 
to  do  what  old  Blair  would  have  done — cut  him 
off — let  him  feel  his  feet  on  the  ground,  and  the 
result  of  his  own  folly." 

He  had  taken  his  glasses  off  while  he  made 
this  assertion.  Now  he  put  them  on  again. 

"If  you  give  him  up  I'll  divide  with  the  boy 
and  be  rich  enough  still  to  hand  over  to  my  wife 
all  she  wants  to  spend." 

She  turned  her  face  away  from  him  and 
leaned  her  head  once  more  upon  her  hands.  He 
263 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

heard  her  softly  murmuring  under  her  breath, 
with  an  absent  look  on  her  face,  accompanied  by 
a  still  more  incomprehensible  smile. 

"That's  how  it  stands,"  he  concluded. 

She  seemed  to  have  forgotten  him  entirely, 
and  he  caught  his  breath  when  she  turned  about 
abruptly  and  said : 

"My  goodness,  how  Dan  will  hate  being  poor ! 
He  will  have  to  sell  all  his  stickpins  and  his  mo- 
tor cars  and  all  the  things  he  has  given  me.  It 
will  be  quite  a  little  to  start  on,  but  he  will  hate 
it,  he  is  so  very  smart." 

"Why,  you  don't  mean  to  say — "  Ruggles 
gasped. 

And  with  a  charming  smile  as  she  rose  to  put 
their  conversation  at  an  end,  she  said  : 

"Why,  you  don't  mean  to  say  that  you 
thought  I  wouldn't  stand  by  him?"  She  seemed, 
as  she  put  her  hands  upon  her  hips  with  some- 
thing of  a  defiant  look  at  the  older  man,  as 
though  she  just  then  stood  by  her  pauperized 
lover. 

264 


RUGGLES'   OFFER 

"I  thought  you  cared  some  for  the  boy,"  Rug- 
gles  said. 

"Well,  I  am  showing  it." 

"You  want  to  ruin  him  to  show  it,  do  you  ?" 

As  though  he  thought  the  subject  dismissed 
he  walked  heavily  toward  the  door. 

"You  know  how  it  stands.  I  have  nothing 
more  to  say."  He  knew  that  he  had  signally 
failed,  and  as  a  sudden  resentment  rose  in  him 
he  exclaimed,  almost  brutally : 

"I  am  darned  glad  the  old  man  is  dead ;  I  am 
glad  his  mother's  dead,  and  I  am  glad  I  have  got 
no  son." 

The  next  moment  she  was  at  his  side,  and  he 
felt  that  she  clung  to  his  arm.  Her  sensitive, 
beautiful  face,  all  drawn  with  emotion,  was  raised 
to  his. 

"Oh,  you'll  kill  me— you'll  kill  me !  Just  look 
how  very  ill  I  am ;  you  are  making  me  crazy.  I 
just  worship  him." 

"Give  him  up,  then,"  said  Ruggles  steadily. 

She  faltered:  "I  can't— I  can't— it  won't  be 
265 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

for  long" — with  a  terrible  pathos  in  her  voice. 
"You  don't  know  how  different  I  can  be:  you 
don't  know  what  a  new  life  we  were  going  to 
lead." 

Stammering,  and  with  intense  meaning,  Rug- 
gles,  looking  down  at  her,  said:  "My  dear  child 
— my  dear  child !" 

In  his  few  words  something  perhaps  made  her 
see  in  a  flash  her  past  and  what  the  question 
really  was.  She  dropped  Ruggles'  arm.  She 
stood  for  a  moment  with  her  arms  folded  across 
her  breast,  her  head  bent  down,  and  the  man  at 
the  door  waited,  feeling  that  Dan's  whole  life 
was  in  the  balance  of  the  moment.  When  she 
spoke  again  her  voice  was  hard  and  entirely  de- 
void of  the  lovely  appealing  quality  which 
brought  her  so  much  admiration  from  the  public. 

"If  I  give  him  up,"  she  said  slowly,  "what  will 
you  do?" 

"Why,"  he  answered,  "I'll  divide  with  Dan 
and  let  things  stand  just  as  they  are." 

She  thought  again  a  moment  and  then  as  if 


RUGGLES'  OFFER 

she  did  not  want  him  to  witness — to  detect  the 
struggle  she  was  going  through,  she  turned 
away  and  walked  over  toward  the  window  and 
dismissed  him  from  there.  "Please  go,  will  you  ? 
I  want  very  much  to  be  alone  and  to  think." 


267 


CHAPTER  XXV 

LETTY    IANE    RUNS    AWAY 

HE  HAD  not  got  up-stairs  to  his  rooms  at 
the  Carlton  before  a  note  was  handed  him 
from  the  actress,  bidding  him  to  return  at  once 
to  the  Savoy,  and  Ruggles,  his  heart  hammering 
like  a  trip-hammer,  rushed  up  to  his  rooms,  made 
an  evening  toilet,  for  it  was  then  half -past  seven, 
threw  his  cravats  and  collars  all  around  the 
place,  cursed  like  a  miner  as  he  got  into  his 
clothes,  and  red  almost  to  apoplexy,  nervous  and 
full  of  emotion,  he  returned  to  the  rooms  he  had 
left  not  three  hours  before. 

The  three  hours  had  been  busy  ones  at  the 
actress'  apartment.  Letty  Lane's  sitting-room 
was  full  of  trunks,  dressing-bags  and  traveling 
paraphernalia.  She  came  forward  out  of  what 
seemed  a  world  of  confusion,  dressed  as  though 
268 


LETTY   LANE   RUNS    AWAY 

for  a  journey,  even  her  veil  and  her  gloves  de- 
noting her  departure.  She  spoke  hurriedly  and 
almost  without  politeness. 

"I  have  sent  for  you  to  come  and  see  me  here. 
Not  a  soul  in  London  knows  I  am  going  away. 
There  will  be  a  dreadful  row  at  the  theater,  but 
that's  none  of  your  affairs.  Now,  I  want  you  to 
tell  me  before  I  go  just  what  you  are  going  to 
do  for  Dan." 

"Who  are  you  going  with?"  Ruggles  asked 
shortly,  and  she  flashed  at  him : 

"Well,  really,  I  don't  think  that  is  any  of 
your  business.  When  you  drive  a  woman  as  you 
have  driven  me,  she  will  go  far." 

He  interrupted  her  vehemently,  not  daring  to 
take  her  hand.  "I  couldn't  do  more.  I  have 
asked  you  to  marry  me.  I  couldn't  do  more.  I 
stand  by  what  I  have  said.  Will  you?"  he  stam- 
mered. 

She  knew  men.  She  looked  at  him  keenly. 
Her  veil  was  lifted  above  her  eyes  and  its  shad- 
ow framed  her  small  pale  face  on  which  there 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

were  marks  of  utter  disenchantment,  of  great 
ennui.  She  said  languidly:  "What  I  want  to 
know  is,  what  you  are  going  to  do  for  Dan  ?" 

"I  told  you  I  would  share  with  him." 

"Then  he  will  be  nearly  as  rich?" 

"He'll  have  more  than  is  good  for  him." 

That  satisfied  her.  Then  she  pursued:  "I 
want  you  to  stand  by  him.  He  will  need  you." 

Ruggles  lifted  the  hand  he  held  and  kissed  it 
reverently.  "I'll  do  anything  you  say — any- 
thing you  say." 

Down-stairs  in  the  Savoy,  as  Dan  had  done 
countless  times,  Ruggles  waited  until  he  saw  her 
motor  car  carry  her  and  her  small  luggage  and 
Higgins  away. 

In  their  sitting-room  in  the  Carlton  a  half- 
hour  later  the  door  was  thrown  open  and  Dan 
Blair  came  in  like  a  madman.  Without  preamble 
he  seized  Ruggles  by  the  arm. 

"Look  here,"  he  cried,  "what  have  you  been 
doing?  Tell  me  now,  and  tell  me  the  truth,  or, 
fcy  God,  I  don't  know  what  I'll  do.  You  went  to 
270 


LETTY   LANE   RUNS    AWAY 

the  Savoy.  You  went  there  twice.  Anyhow, 
where  is  she?" 

Dan,  slender  as  he  was  beside  Ruggles'  great 
frame,  shook  the  elder  man  as  though  he  had 
been  a  terrier.  .  "Speak  to  me.  Where  has  she 
gone?" 

He  stared  in  the  Westerner's  face,  his  eyes 
bloodshot.  "Why  in  thunder  don't  you  say 
something?" 

And  Ruggles  prayed  for  some  power  to  un- 
loose his  thickening  tongue. 

"You  say  she's  gone?"  he  questioned. 

"I  say,"  said  the  boy,  "that  you've  been  med- 
dling in  my  affairs  with  the  woman  I  love.  I 
don't  know  what  you  have  said  to  her,  but  it's 
only  your  age  that  keeps  me  from  striking  you. 
Don't  you  know,"  he  cried,  "that  you  are  spoil- 
ing my  life  ?  Don't  you  know  that  ?"  A  torrent 
of  feeling  coming  to  his  lips,  his  eyes  suffused, 
the  tears  rolled  down  his  face.  He  walked  away 
into  his  own  room,  remained  there  a  few  mo- 
ments, and  when  he  came  out  again  he  carried  in 
271 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

his  hand  his  valise,  which  he  put  down  with  a 
bang  on  the  table.  More  calmly,  but  still  in 
great  anger,  he  said  to  his  father's  friend : 

"Now,  can  you  tell  me  what  you've  done  or 
not?" 

"Dan,"  said  Ruggles  with  difficulty,  "if  you 
will  sit  down  a  moment  we  can — " 

The  boy  laughed  in  his  face.  "Sit  down !"  he 
cried.  "Why,  I  think  you  must  have  lost  your 
reason.  I  have  chartered  a  motor  car  out  there 
and  the  damned  thing  has  burst  a  tire  and  they 
are  fixing  it  up  for  me.  It  will  be  ready  in  about 
two  minutes  and  then  I  am  going  to  follow  wher- 
ever she  has  gone.  She  crossed  to  Paris,  but  I 
can  get  there  before  she  can  even  with  this 
damned  accident.  But,  before  I  go,  I  want  you 
to  tell  me  what  you  said." 

"Why,"  said  Ruggles  quietly,  "I  told  her  you 
were  poor,  and  she  turned  you  down." 

His  words  were  faint. 

"God !"  said  the  boy  under  his  breath.  "That's 
the  way  you  think  about  truth.  Lie  to  a  woman 
272 


LETTY   LANE   RUNS   AWAY 

to  save  my  precious  soul !  But  I  expect,"  he  said ; 
"you  think  she  is  so  immoral  and  so  bad  that  she 
will  hurt  me.  Well,"  he  said,  with  great  empha- 
sis, "she  has  never  done  anything  in  her  life  that 
comes  up  to  what  you've  done.  Never!  And 
nothing  has  ever  hurt  me  so." 

His  lips  trembled.  "I  have  lost  my  respect 
for  you,  for  my  father's  friend,  and  as  far  as 
she  is  concerned,  I  don't  care  what  she  marries 
me  for.  She  has  got  to  marry  me,  and  if  she 
doesn't" — he  had  no  idea,  in  his  passion,  what 
he  was  saying  or  how — "why,  I  think  I'll  kill 
you  first  and  then  blow  my  own  brains  out!" 
And  with  these  mad  words  he  grabbed  up  his 
valise  and  bolted  from  the  room,  and  Ruggles 
could  hear  his  running  feet  tearing  down  the 
corridor. 


273 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

WHITE  AND    COEAL 

SPRING  in  Paris,  which  comes  in  a  fashion 
so  divine  that  even  the  most  calloused  and 
indifferent  are  impressed  by  its  beauty,  awak- 
ened no  answering  response  in  the  heart  of  the 
young  man  who,  from  his  hotel  window,  looked 
out  on  the  desecrated  gardens  of  the  Tuileries 
—on  the  distant  spires  of  the  churches  whose 
names  he  did  not  know — on  the  square  block  of 
old  palaces.  He  had  missed  the  boat  across  the 
Channel  taken  by  Letty  Lane,  and  the  delay  had 
made  him  lose  what  little  trace  of  her  he  had. 
In  the  early  hours  of  the  morning  he  had  flung 
himself  in  at  the  St.  James,  taken  the  indifferent 
room  they  could  give  him  in  the  crowded  season, 
and  excited  as  he  was  he  slept  and  did  not  waken 
until  noon.  Blair  thought  it  would  be  a  matter 
274 


WHITE    AND    CORAL 

of  a  few  hours  only  to  find  the  whereabouts  of 
the  celebrated  actress,  but  it  was  not  such  an 
easy  job.  He  had  not  guessed  that  she  might 
be  traveling  incognita,  and  at  none  of  the  hotels 
could  he  hear  news  of  her,  nor  did  he  pass  her 
in  the  crowded,  noisy,  rustling,  crying  streets, 
though  he  searched  motors  for  her  with  eager 
eyes,  and  haunted  restaurants  and  cafes,  and 
went  everywhere  that  he  thought  she  might  be 
likely  to  be. 

At  the  end  of  the  third  day,  unsuccessful 
and  in  despair,  having  hardly  slept  and  scarcely 
eaten,  the  unhappy  young  lover  found  himself 
taking  a  slight  luncheon  in  the  little  restau- 
rant known  as  the  Perouse  down  on  the  Quais. 
His  head  on  his  hand,  for  the  present  mo- 
ment the  joy  of  life  gone  from  him,  he  looked 
out  through  the  windows  at  the  Seine,  at  the 
bridge  and  the  lines  of  flowering  trees.  He  was 
the  only  occupant  of  the  upper  room  where,  of 
late,  he  had  ordered  his  luncheon. 

The  tide  of  life  rolled  slowly  in  this  quieter 
275 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

part  of  the  city,  and  as  Blair  sat  there  under  the 
window  there  passed  a  piper  playing  a  shrill, 
sweet  tune.  It  was  so  different  from  any  of  the 
loud  metropolitan  clamors,  with  which  his  ears 
were  full,  that  he  got  up,  walked  to  the  window 
and  leaned  out.  It  was  a  pastoral  that  met  his 
eyes.  A  man  piping,  followed  by  little  pattering 
goats ;  the  primitive,  unlooked-for  picture  caught 
his  tired  attention,  and,  just  then,  opposite  the 
Quais,  two  women  passed — flower  sellers,  their 
baskets  bright  with  crocuses  and  girofles.  The 
bright  picture  touched  him  and  something  of  the 
springlike  beauty  that  the  day  wore  and  that 
dwelt  in  the  May  light,  soothed  him  as  nothing 
had  for  many  hours. 

He  paid  his  bill,  took  courage,  picked  up  his 
hat  and  gloves  and  stick  and  walked  out  briskly, 
crossing  the  bridge  to  the  Rue  de  Rivoli,  deter- 
mined that  night  should  not  fall  until  he  found 
the  woman  he  sought.  Nor  did  it,  though  the 
afternoon  wore  on  and  Dan,  pursuing  his  old 
trails,  wandered  from  worldly  meeting  place  to 
276 


WHITE    AND   CORAL, 

worldly  meeting  place.  Finally,  toward  six 
o'clock,  he  saw  the  lengthening  shadows  steal 
into  the  woods  of  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  and  in 
one  of  the  smaller  alleys,  where  the  green- 
trunked  trees  of  the  forests  were  full  of  purple 
shadows  and  yellow  sun  discs,  flickering  down, 
he  picked  up  a  small  iron  chair  and  sat  himself 
down,  with  a  long  sigh,  to  rest. 

While  he  sat  there  watching  the  end  of  the 
allee  as  it  gave  out  into  the  broader  road,  a 
beautiful  red  motor  rolled  up  to  the  conjunction 
of  the  two  ways  and  Letty  Lane,  in  a  summer 
frock,  got  out  alone.  She  had  a  flowing  white 
veil  around  her  head  and  a  flowing  white  scarf 
around  her  shoulders.  As  the  day  on  the 
Thames,  she  was  all  in  white — like  a  dove.  But 
this  time  her  costume  was  made  vivid  and  pic- 
turesque by  the  coral  parasol  she  carried,  a 
pair  of  coral-colored  kid  shoes,  around  her  neck 
and  falling  on  their  long  chain,  she  wore  his  coral 
beads.  He  saw  that  he  observed  her  before  she 
did  him.  All  this  Dan  saw  before  he  dashed 
277 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

into  the  road,  came  up  to  her  with  something 
like  a  cry  on  his  lips,  bareheaded,  for  his  hat 
and  his  stick  and  his  gloves  were  by  his  chair 
in  the  woods. 

Letty  Lane's  hands  went  to  her  heart  and  her 
face  took  on  a  deadly  pallor.  She  did  not  seem 
glad  to  see  him.  Out  of  his  passionate  descrip- 
tion of  the  hours  that  he  had  been  through,  of 
how  he  had  looked  for  her,  of  what  he  thought 
and  wanted  and  felt,  the  actress  made  what  she 
could,  listening  to  him  as  they  both  stood  there 
under  the  shadows  of  the  green  trees.  Scanning 
her  face  for  some  sign  that  she  loved  him,  for  it 
was  all  he  cared  for,  Dan  saw  no  such  indication 
there.  He  finished  with : 

"You  know  what  Ruggles  told  you  was  a  lie. 
Of  course,  I've  got  money  enough  to  give  you 
everything  you  want.  He's  a  lunatic  and  ought 
to  be  shut  up." 

"It  may  have  been  a  lie,  all  right,"  she  said 
with  forced  indifference ;  "I've  had  time  to  think 
it  over.  You  are  too  young.  You  don't  know 
278 


WHITE    AND   CORAL 

what  you  want."  She  stopped  his  protestations : 
"Well,  then,  /  am  too  old  and  I  don't  want  to  be 
tied  down." 

When  he  pressed  her  to  tell  him  whether  or 
not  she  had  ceased  to  care  for  him,  she  shook  her 
head  slowly,  marking  on  the  ground  fine  tracery 
with  the  end  of  her  coral  parasol.  He  had  been 
obliged  to  take  her  back  to  the  red  motor,  but 
before  they  were  in  earshot  of  her  servants,  he 
said: 

"Now,  you  know  just  what  }rou  have  done  to 
me,  you  and  Ruggles  between  you.  For  my  fa- 
ther's sake  and  the  things  I  believed  in  I've 
kept  pretty  straight  as  things  go."  He  nodded 
at  her  with  boyish  egotism,  throwing  all  the 
blame  on  her.  "I  want  you  to  understand  that 
from  now,  right  now,  I'm  going  to  the  dogs  just 
as  fast  as  I  can  get  there,  and  it  won't  be  a  very 
gratifying  result  to  anybody  that  ever  cared." 

She  saw  the  determination  on  his  fine  young 
face,  worn  by  his  sleepless  nights,  already  ma- 
tured and  changed,  and  she  believed  him. 
279 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

"Paris,"  he  nodded  toward  the  gate  of  the 
woods  which  opened  upon  Paris,  "is  the  place  to 
begin  in — right  here.  A  man,"  he  went  on,  and 
his  lips  trembled,  "can  only  feel  like  this  once  in 
his  life.  You  know  all  the  talk  there  is  about 
young  love  and  first  love.  Well,  that's  what  I've 
got  for  you,  and  I'm  going  to  turn  it  now — 
right  now — into  just  what  older  people  warn 
men  from,  and  do  their  best  to  prevent.  I  have 
seen  enough  of  Paris,"  he  went  on,  "these  days  I 
have  been  looking  for  you,  to  know  where  to  go 
and  what  to  do,  and  I  am  setting  off  for  it  now." 

She  touched  his  arm. 

"No,"  she  murmured.  "No,  boy,  you  are  not 
going  to  do  any  such  thing !" 

This  much  from  her  was  enough  for  him.  He 
caught  her  hand  and  cried:  "Then  you  marry 
me.  What  do  we  care  for  anybody  else  in  the 
world?" 

"Go  back  and  get  your  hat  and  stick  and 
gloves,"  she  commanded,  keeping  down  the  tears. 

"No,  no,  you  come  with  me(>  Letty ;  I'm  not 
280 


WHITE    AND    CORAL 

going  to  let  you  run  to  your  motor  and  escape 
me  again." 

"Go;  I'll  wait  here,"  she  promised.  "I  give 
you  my  word." 

As  he  snatched  up  the  inanimate  objects  from 
the  leaf-strewn  ground  where  he  had  thrown 
them  in  despair,  he  thought  how  things  can 
change  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  For  he  had 
hope  now,  as  he  hurried  back,  as  he  walked  with 
her  to  her  car,  as  he  saw  the  little  coral  shoes 
stir  in  the  leaves  when  she  passed  under  the  trees. 
The  little  coral  shoes  trod  on  his  heart,  but  now 
it  was  light  under  her  feet ! 

Jubilant  to  have  overcome  the  fate  which  had 
tried  to  keep  her  hidden  from  him  in  Paris,  he 
could  hardly  believe  his  eyes  that  she  was  before 
them  again,  and,  as  the  motor  rolled  into  the 
Avenue  des  Acacias,  he  asked  her  the  question 
uppermost  in  his  mind: 

"Are  you  alone  in  Paris,  Letty?" 

"Don't  you  count?" 

"No — no — honestly,  you  know  what  I  mean." 
281 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

"You  haven't  any  right  to  ask  me  that." 

"I  have — I  have.  You  gave  me  a  right. 
You're  engaged  to  me,  aren't  you?  Gosh,  you 
haven't  forgotten,  have  you?" 

"Don't  make  me  conspicuous  in  the  Bois, 
Dan,"  she  said;  "I  only  let  you  come  with  me 
because  you  were  so  terribly  desperate,  so  ridic- 
ulous." 

"Are  you  alone?"  he  persisted.  "I  have  got 
to  know." 

"Higgins  is  with  me." 

"Oh,  God,"  he  cried  wildly,  "how  can  you  joke 
with  me  ?  Don't  you  understand  you're  breaking 
my  heart?" 

But  she  did  not  dare  to  be  kind  to  him,  know- 
ing it  would  unnerve  her  for  the  part  she  had 
promised  to  play. 

He  sat  gripping  his  hands  tightly  together, 
his  lips  white.  "When  I  leave  you  now,"  he  said 
brokenly,  "I  am  going  to  find  that  devil  of  a 
Hungarian  and  do  him  up.  Then  I  am  going  to 
tackle  Ruggles." 

288 


WHITE   AND   CORAL 

"Why,  what's  poor  Mr.  Ruggles  got  to  do 
with  it?" 

Dan  cried  scornfully:  "For  God's  sake,  don't 
keep  this  up!  You  know  the  rot  he  told  you? 
I  made  him  confess.  He  has  had  this  mania  all 
along  about  money  being  a  handicap;  he  was 
bent  on  trying  this  game  with  some  girl  to  see 
how  it  worked."  He  continued  more  passionate- 
ly. "I  don't  care  a  rap  what  you  marry  me  for, 
Letty,  or  what  you  have  done  or  been.  I  think 
you're  perfect  and  I'll  make  you  the  happiest 
woman  in  the  world." 

She  said :  "Hush,  hush !  Listen,  dear ;  listen, 
little  boy.  I  am  awfully  sorry,  but  it  won't  do. 
I  never  thought  it  would.  You'll  get  over  it  all 
right,  though  you  don't,  you  can't  believe  me 
now.  I  can't  be  poor,  you  know ;  I  really  couldn't 
be  poor." 

He  interrupted  roughly:    "Who  says  you'll 
be?    What  are  you  talking  about?    Why,  I'U 
cover  you  with  jewels,  sweetheart,  if  I  have  to 
rip  the  earth  open  to  get  them  out." 
283 


THE    GIBL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

She  understood  that  Dan  believed  Ruggles' 
story  to  have  been  a  cock-and-bull  one. 

"You  talk  as  though  you  could  buy  me,  Dan. 
Wait,  listen."  She  put  him  back  from  her. 
"Now,  if  you  won't  be  quiet,  I'm  going  to  stop 
my  car." 

He  repeated:  "Tell  me,  are  you  alone  in 
Paris?  Tell  me.  For  three  days  I  have  wan- 
dered and  searched  for  you  everywhere;  I  have 
hardly  eaten  a  thing,  I  don't  believe  I  have  slept 
a  wink."  And  he  told  her  of  his  weary  search. 

She  listened  to  him,  part  of  the  time  her  white- 
gloved  hand  giving  itself  up  to  the  boy ;  part  of 
the  time  both  hands  folded  together  and  away 
from  him,  her  arms  crossed  on  her  breast,  her 
small  shoes  of  coral  kid  tapping  the  floor  of  the 
car.  Thus  they  rolled  leisurely  along  the  road 
by  the  Bois.  Through  the  green-trunked  trees 
the  sunlight  fell  divinely.  On  the  lake  the  swans 
swam,  pluming  their  feathers;  there  were  chil- 
dren there  in  their  ribbons  and  furbelows.  The 
whole  world  went  by  gay  and  careless,  while  for 
88* 


WHITE    AND   CORAL 

Dan  the  problem  of  his  existence,  his  possibility 
for  happiness  or  pain  was  comprised  within  the 
little  room  of  the  motor  car. 

"Are  you  alone  in  Paris,  Letty?" 

And  she  said:  "Oh,  what  a  bore  you  are! 
You're  the  most  obstinate  creature.  Well,  I  am 
alone,  but  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  you." 

A  glorious  light  broke  over  his  face;  his  re- 
lief was  tremendous. 

"Oh,  thank  God!"  he  breathed. 

"Poniotowsky" — and  she  said  his  name  with 
difficulty — "is  coming  to-night  from  Carlsbad." 

The  boy  threw  back  his  bright  head  and 
laughed  wildly. 

"Curse  him !  The  very  name  makes  me  want 
to  commit  a  crime.  He  will  go  over  my  body  to 
you.  You  hear  me,  Letty.  I  mean  what  I  say." 

People  had  already  remarked  them  as  they 
passed.  The  actress  was  too  well  known  to  pass 
unobserved,  but  she  was  indifferent  to  their  curi- 
osity or  to  the  existence  of  any  one  but  this  ex- 
cited boy. 

285 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

Blair,  who  had  not  opened  a  paper  since  he 
came  to  Paris,  did  not  know  that  Letty  Lane's 
flight  from  London  had  created  a  scandal  in  the 
theatrical  world,  that  her  manager  was  suing 
her,  and  that  to  be  seen  with  her  driving  in  the 
Bois  was  a  conspicuous  thing  indeed.  She 
thought  of  it,  however. 

"I  am  going  to  tell  the  man  to  drive  you  to 
the  gate  on  the  other  side  of  the  park  where  it's 
quieter,  we  won't  be  stared  at,  and  then  I  want 
you  to  leave  me  and  let  me  go  to  the  Meurice 
alone.  You  must,  Dan,  you  must  let  me  go  to  the 
hotel  alone." 

He  laughed  again  in  the  same  strained  fashion 
and  forced  her  hand  to  remain  in  his. 

"Look  here.  You  don't  suppose  I  am  going 
to  let  you  go  like  this,  now  that  I  have  seen  you 
again.  You  don't  suppose  I  am  going  to  give 
you  up  to  that  infamous  scoundrel?  You  have 
got  to  marry  me." 

Bringing  all  her  strength  of  character  to  bear, 
she  exclaimed :  "I  expect  you  think  you  are  the 
286 


WHITE   AND   CORAL 

only  person  who  has  asked  me  to  marry  him, 
Dan.  I  am  going  to  marry  Prince  Poniotowsky. 
He  is  perfectly  crazy  about  me." 

Until  that  moment  she  had  not  made  him  think 
that  she  was  indifferent  to  him,  and  the  idea  that 
such  a  thing  was  possible,  was  too  much  for  his 
overstrained  heart  to  bear.  Dan  cried  her  name 
in  a  voice  whose  appeal  was  like  a  hurt  creature's, 
and  as  the  hurt  creature  in  its  suffering  some- 
times springs  upon  its  torturer,  he  flung  his 
arms  around  her  as  she  sat  in  the  motor,  held  her 
and  kissed  her,  then  set  her  free,  and  as  the 
motor  flew  along,  tore  open  the  door  to  spring 
out  or  to  throw  himself  out,  but  clinging  to  him 
she  prevented  his  mad  act.  She  stopped  the 
car  along  the  edge  of  the  quiet,  wooded  atiee. 
Blair  saw  that  he  had  terrified  her.  She  covered 
her  beating  heart  with  her  hands  and  gasped  at 
him  that  he  was  "crazy,  crazy,"  and  perhaps  a 
little  late  his  dignity  and  self-possession  re- 
turned. 

"I  am  mad,"  he  acknowledged  more  calmly, 
287 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

"and  I  am  sorry  that  I  frightened  you.  But 
you  drive  me  mad." 

Without  further  word  he  got  out  and  left  her 
agitated,  leaning  toward  him,  and  Blair,  less 
pale  and  thoroughly  the  man,  lifted  his  hat  to 
her  and,  with  unusual  grace,  bowed  good  night 
and  good-by.  Then,  rushing  as  he  had  come,  he 
walked  off  down  through  the  allee,  his  gray  fig- 
ure in  his  gray  clothes  disappearing  through 
the  vista  of  meeting  trees. 

For  a  moment  she  stared  after  him,  her  eyes 
fastened  on  the  tall  slender  beautiful  young  man. 
Blair's  fire  and  ardor,  his  fresh  youthfulness, 
his  protection  and  his  chivalry,  his  ardent  devo- 
tion, touched  her  profoundly.  Tears  fell,  and 
one  splashed  on  her  white  glove.  Was  he  really 
going  to  ruin  his  life  ?  The  old  ballad,  The  Earl 
of  Moray,  ran  through  her  head : 

"And  long  may  his  lady  look  from  the  castle 
wall." 

Dan  had  neither  title  nor,  according  to  Rug- 
288 


WHITE   AND   CORAL 

gles,  had  he  any  money,  and  she  could  marry  the 
prince ;  but  Dan,  as  he  walked  so  fast  away,  mis- 
ery snapping  at  his  heels  as  he  went,  stamping 
through  the  woods,  seemed  glorious  to  Letty 
Lane  and  the  only  one  she  wanted  in  the  world. 
What  if  anything  should  happen  to  him  really? 
What  if  he  should  really  start  out  to  do  the  town 
according  to  the  fashion  of  his  Anglo-Saxon 
brothers,  but  more  desperately  still?  She  took 
a  card  from  the  case  in  the  corner  of  the  car, 
scribbled  a  few  words,  told  the  man  to  drive 
around  the  curve  and  meet  the  outlet  of  the 
path  by  which  Dan  had  gone.  When  she  saw 
him  within  reaching  distance  she  sent  the  chauf- 
feur across  the  woods  to  give  Mr.  Blair  her 
scribbled  word  and  consoled  herself  with  the  be- 
lief that  Dan  wouldn't  "go  to  the  dogs  or  throw 
himself  in  the  river  until  he  had  seen  her  again." 


289 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

AT  MAXIM'S 

AT  THE  Meurice,  Miss  Lane  gave  strict 
orders  to  admit  only  Mr.  Blair  to  her 
apartments.  She  described  him.  No  sooner  had 
she  drunk  her  cup  of  tea,  which  Higgins  gave 
her,  than  she  began  to  expect  Dan. 

He  didn't  come. 

Her  dinner,  without  much  appetite,  she  ate 
alone  in  her  salon;  saw  a  doctor  and  made  him 
prescribe  something  for  the  cough  that  racked 
her  chest;  looked  out  to  the  warm,  bright  gar- 
dens of  the  Tuileries  fading  into  the  pallid  love- 
liness of  sunset,  indifferent  to  everything  in  the 
world — except  Dan  Blair.  She  believed  she 
would  soon  be  indifferent  to  him,  too ;  then  every- 
thing would  be  done  with.  Now  she  wondered 
had  he  really  gone — had  he  done  what  he  threat- 
290 


AT  MAXIM'S 

ened?  Why  didn't  he  come?  At  twelve  o'clock 
that  night,  as  she  lay  among  the  cushions  of 
her  sofa,  dozing,  the  door  of  her  parlor  was 
pushed  in.  She  sprang  up  with  a  cry  of  delight ; 
but  when  Poniotowsky  came  up  to  her  she  ex- 
claimed : 

"Oh,  you!"  And  the  languor  and  boredom 
with  which  she  said  his  name  made  the  prince 
laugh  shortly. 

"Yes,  I.  Who  did  you  think  it  was?"  Cyn- 
ically and  rather  cruelly  he  looked  down  at  Letty 
Lane  and  admired  the  picture  she  made:  small, 
exquisite,  her  blond  head  against  the  dark  velvet 
of  the  lounge,  her  gray  eyes  intensified  by  »the 
fatigue  under  them. 

"Just  got  in  from  Carlsbad;  came  directly 
here.  How-de-do?  You  look,  you  know — "  he 
scrutinized  her  through  his  single  eye-glass — 
"most  frightfully  seedy." 

"Oh,  I'm  all  right."    She  left  the  sofa,  for  she 
wanted  to  prevent  his  nearer  approach.     "Have 
you  had  any  supper?    I'll  call  Higgins." 
291 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

"No,  no,  sit  down,  please,  will  you?  I  want 
to  know  why  you  sent  to  Carlsbad  for  me?  Have 
you  come  to  your  senses  ?" 

He  was  as  mad  about  the  beautiful  creature 
as  a  man  of  his  temperament  could  be.  Exhaust- 
ed by  excess  and  bored  with  life,  she  charmed 
and  amused  him,  and  in  order  to  have  her  with 
him  always,  to  be  master  of  her  caprices,  he  was 
willing  to  make  any  sacrifice. 

"Have  you  sent  off  that  imbecile  boy?"  And 
at  her  look  he  stopped  and  shrugged.  "You 
need  a  rest,  my  child,"  he  murmured  practically, 
"you're  neurasthenic  and  very  ill.  I've  wired  to 
have  the  yacht  at  Cherbourg — It'll  reach  there 
by  noon  to-morrow." 

She  was  standing  listlessly  by  the  table.  A 
mass  of  letters  sent  by  special  messenger  from 
London  after  her,  telegrams  and  cards  lay  there 
in  a  pile.  Looking  down  at  the  lot,  she  mur- 
mured: "All  right,  I  don't  care." 

He  concealed  his  triumph,  but  before  the  look 


AT  MAXIM'S 

had  faded  from  his  face  she  saw  it   and  ex- 
claimed sharply: 

"Don't  be  crazy  about  it,  you  know.  You'll 
have  to  pay  high  for  me;  you  know  what  I 
mean." 

He  answered  gallantly :  "My  dear  child,  I've 
told  you  that  you  would  be  the  most  charming 
princess  in  Hungary." 

Once  more  she  accepted  indifferently:  4<A11 
right,  all  right,  I  don't  care  tuppence — not  tup- 
pence"— and  she  snapped  her  fingers;  "but  I 
like  to  see  you  pay,  Frederigo.  Take  me  to 
Maxim's." 

He  demurred,  saying  she  was  far  too  ill,  but 
she  turned  from  him  to  call  Higgins,  determined 
to  go  if  she  had  to  go  alone,  and  said  to  him 
violently :  "Don't  think  I'll  make  your  life  easy 
for  you,  Frederigo.  I'll  make  it  wretched;  as 
wretched — "  and  she  held  out  her  fragile  arms, 
and  the  sleeves  fell  back,  leaving  them  bare — 
"as  wretched  as  I  am  myself." 
293 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS   TOWN 

But  she  was  lovely,  and  he  said  harshly :  "Get 
yourself  dressed.  I'll  go  change  and  meet  you  at 
the  lift." 

She  made  him  take  a  table  in  the  corner,  where 
she  sat  in  the  shadow  on  the  sofa,  overlooking 
the  brilliant  room.  Maxim's  was  no  new  scene 
to  either  of  them,  no  novelty.  Poniotowsky 
scarcely  glanced  at  the  crowd,  preferring  to 
feast  his  eyes  on  his  companion,  whose  indiffer- 
ence to  him  made  his  abstraction  easy.  She  was 
his  property.  He  would  give  her  his  title;  she 
had  demanded  it  from  the  first.  The  Hungarian 
was  a  little  overdressed,  with  his  jeweled  buttons, 
his  large  boutonniere,  his  faultless  clothes,  his 
single  eye-glass  through  which  he  stared  at  Letty 
Lane,  whose  delicate  beauty  was  in  fine  play: 
her  cheeks  faintly  pink,  her  starry  eyes  humid 
with  a  dew  whose  luster  is  of  the  most  precious 
quality.  Her  unshed  tears  had  nothing  to  do 
.with  Poniotowsky — they  were  for  the  boy.  Her 
heart  sickened,  thinking  where  he  might  be ;  and 
294 


AT  MAXIM'S 

more  than  that,  it  cried  out  for  him.  She  wanted 
him. 

Oh,  she  would  have  been  far  better  for  Dan 
than  anything  he  could  find  in  this  mad  city, 
than  anything  to  which  in  his  despair  he  would 
go  for  consolation.  She  had  kept  her  word, 
however,  to  that  old  man,  Mr.  Ruggles ;  she  had 
got  out  of  the  business  with  a  fatal  result,  as 
far  as  the  boy  was  concerned.  She  thought  Dan 
would  drift  here  probably  as  most  Americans 
on  their  wild  nights  do  for  a  part  of  the  time, 
and  she  had  come  to  see. 

She  wore  a  dress  of  coral  pink,  tightly  fitting, 
high  to  her  little  chin,  and  seemed  herself  like 
a  coral  strand  from  neck  to  toe,  clad  in  the 
color  she  affected,  and  which  had  become  cele- 
brated as  the  Letty  Lane  pink.  Her  feathered 
hat  hid  her  face,  and  she  was  completely  shielded 
as  she  bent  down  drawing  pictures  with  her  bare 
finger  on  the  cloth.  After  a  little  while  she  said 
to  Poniotowsky  without  glancing  at  him : 

"If  you  stare  any  longer  like  that,  Frederigo, 
295 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

you'll  break  your  eye-glass.  You  know  how  I 
hate  it." 

Used  as  he  was  to  her  sharpness,  he  never- 
theless flushed  and  sat  back  and  looked  across 
the  room,  where,  to  their  right,  protected  from 
them  as  they  were  from  him  by  the  great  door, 
a  young  man  sat  alone.  Whether  or  not  he  had 
come  to  Maxim's  intending  to  join  a  congenial 
party,  should  he  find  one,  or  to  choose  for  a 
companion  some  one  of  the  women  who,  at  the 
entrance  of  the  tall  blond  boy,  stirred  and  in- 
vited him  with  their  raised  lorgnons  and  their 
smiles,  will  not  be  known.  Dan  Blair  was  alone, 
pale  as  the  pictures  Letty  Lane  had  drawn  on 
the  cloth,  and  he,  too,  feasted  his  eyes  on  the 
Gaiety  girl. 

"By  Jove!"  said  the  Hungarian  under  his 
breath,  and  she  eagerly  asked:  "What?  Whom? 
Whom  do  you  see?" 

Turning  his  back  sharply  he  evaded  her  ques- 
tion and  she  did  not  pursue  the  idea,  and  as  a 
physical  weakness  overwhelmed  her,  when  Ponio- 


AT  MAXIM'S 

towsky  after  a  second  said,  "Come,  cherie,  for 
heaven's  sake,  let's  go" — she  mechanically  rose 
and  passed  out. 

Several  young  men  supping  together  came 
over  eagerly  to  speak  to  her  and  claim  ac- 
quaintance with  the  Gaiety  girl,  and  walked 
along  out  to  the  motor.  There  Letty  Lane  dis- 
covered she  had  dropped  her  handkerchief,  and 
sent  the  prince  back  for  it. 

As  though  he  had  been  waiting  for  the  re- 
appearance of  Poniotowsky,  Dan  Blair  stood 
close  to  the  little  table  which  Letty  Lane  had 
left,  her  handkerchief  in  his  hand.  As  Ponio- 
towsky came  up  Dan  thrust  the  small  trifle  of 
sheer  linen  into  his  waistcoat  pocket. 

"I  will  trouble  you  for  Miss  Lane's  handker- 
chief," said  Poniotowsky,  his  eyes  cold. 

"You  may,"  said  Dan  as  quietly,  his  blue  eyes 
like  sparks  from  a  star,  "trouble  me  for  hell!" 
And  lifting  from  the  table  Poniotowsky's  own 
half-emptied  glass  of  champagne,  the  boy  flung 
the  contents  full  in  the  Hungarian's  face. 
297 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

The  wine  dashed  against  Poniotowsky's  lips 
and  in  his  eyes.  Blair  laughed  out  loud,  his 
hands  in  his  pockets.  The  insult  was  low  and 
noiseless ;  the  little  glass  shattered  as  it  fell  so 
softly  that  with  the  music  its  gentle  crash  was 
unheard. 

Poniotowsky  wiped  his  face  tranquilly  and 
bowed. 

"You  shall  hear  from  me  after  I  have  taken 
Miss  Lane  home." 

"Tell  her,"  said  the  boy,  "where  you  left  the 
handkerchief,  that's  all." 


298 


CHAPTER  XXVIH 

SUCH   STUFF   AS   DREAMS 

DAN  was  in  his  room  at  the  hotel.  He  woke 
and  then  slept  again.  Nothing  seemed 
strange  to  him — nothing  seemed  real.  It  was 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  rumble  of  Paris 
was  dull;  it  did  not  disturb  him,  for  he  seemed 
without  the  body  and  to  have  grown  giantlike, 
and  to  fill  the  room.  He  had  a  sense  of  suffoca- 
tion and  the  need  to  break  through  the  windows 
and  to  escape  into  ether. 

The  entrance  of  Poniotowsky's  two  friends 
was  a  part  with  the  unreal  naturalness.  One  was 
a  Roumanian,  the  other  a  Frenchman — both 
spoke  fluent  English.  Dan,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  foreign  faces,  only  half  saw  them;  they 
blurred,  their  voices  were  small  and  far  away. 
Finally  he  said: 

"All  right,  all  right,  I  can  shoot  well  enough ; 
299 


THE    GIRL   FROM    HIS    TOWN 

this  kind  of  thing  isn't  our  custom,  you  know — 
I'd  as  soon  kill  him  one  way  as  another,  as  a 
matter  of  fact.  No,  I  don't  know  a  darned 
soul  here."  There  was  a  confab  incomprehen- 
sible to  Dan.  "It's  all  one  to  me,  gentlemen," 
he  said.  "I'd  rather  not  drag  in  my  friends, 
anyhow.  Fix  it  up  to  suit  yourselves." 

He  wanted  them  to  go — to  be  alone — to 
stretch  his  arms,  to  rid  himself  of  the  burden  of 
sense,  and  be  free.  And  after  they  had  left,  he 
remained  in  his  window  till  dawn.  It  came  soon, 
midsummer  dawn,  a  singularly  tender  morning 
in  his  heart.  His  mind  worked  with  great  rapid' 
ity.  He  had  made  his  will  in  the  States.  He 
wished  he  could  have  left  everything  to  Letty 
Lane,  but  if,  as  Ruggles  said,  he  was  a  pauper? 
Perhaps  it  wasn't  a  lie  after  all.  Dan  had  writ- 
ten and  telegraphed  Ruggles  asking  for  the 
solemn  truth,  and  also  telling  him  where  he  was 
and  asking  the  older  man  to  come  over.  If 
Ruggles  proved  he  was  poor,  why,  some  of  his 
burden  was  gone.  His  money  had  been  a  bur- 
300 


SUCH  STUFF  AS  DREAMS 

den,  he  knew  it  now.  He  might  have  no  use  for 
money  the  next  day.  What  good  could  it  do  him 
in  a  fix  like  this?  He  was  to  meet  Peniotowsky 
at  five  o'clock  in  a  place  whose  name  he  couldn't 
recall.  He  had  se€n  it  advertised,  though ;  peo- 
ple went  there  for  lunch. 

They  were  to  shoot  at  twenty-five  paces — he 
might  be  a  Rockefeller  or  a  beggar  for  all  the 
good  his  money  could  do  him  in  a  pinch  like  this. 

His  father  wouldn't  approve,  the  old  man 
wouldn't  approve,  but  he  had  sent  him  here  to 
learn  the  ways  of  the  old  world.  A  flickering 
smile  crossed  his  beautiful,  set  face.  His  lessons 
hadn't  done  him  much  good;  he  would  like  to 
have  seen  good  old  Gordon  Galorey  again;  he 
loved  him — he  had  no  use  for  Ruggles,  no  use — 
it  had  been  all  his  fault.  His  mind  reached  out 
to  his  father,  and  the  old  man's  words  came  din- 
ning back:  "Buy  the  things  that  stay  above 
ground,  my  boy."  What  were  those  things? 
He  had  thought  they  were  passion — he  had 
thought  they  were  love,  and  he  had  put  all  on 
301 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

one  woman.  She  couldn't  stand  by  him,  now 
that  he  was  poor. 

The  spasm  in  his  heart  was  so  sharp  that  he 
made  a  low  sound  in  his  throat  and  leaned 
against  the  casing  of  the  window.  He  must  see 
her,  touch  her  once  more. 

The  fellows  Poniotowsky's  seconds  had  chosen 
to  be  Dan's  representatives  came  in  to  "fix  him 
up."  They  were  in  frock-coats  and  carried  their 
silk  hats  and  their  gloves.  He  could  have  laughed 
at  them.  Then  they  made  him  think  of  under- 
takers, and  his  blood  grew  cold.  He  handled 
the  revolvers  with  care  and  interest. 

"I'm  not  going  to  let  him  murder  me,  you 
know,"  he  told  his  seconds. 

They  helped  him  dress,  at  least  one  of  them 
did,  while  the  other  took  Dan's  place  by  the 
window  and  looked  to  the  boy  like  a  figure  of 
death. 

The  hour  was  getting  on ;  He  heard  his  own 
motor  drive  up,  and  they  went  down,  through 
the  deserted  hotel.  The  men  who  had  consented 
302 


SUCH  STUFF  AS  DREAMS 

to  act  for  Dan  regarded  their  principal  curi- 
ously. He  wasn't  pale,  there  was  a  brightness 
on  his  face. 

"Partonsy"  said  one  of  them,  and  told  Blair's 
chauffeur  where  to  go  and  how  to  run.  "Par- 
tons." 


303 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE  PICTUBE  OF  IT  ALL 

AS  far  as  his  knowing  anything  of  the  cus- 
toms of  it  all,  it  was  like  leading  a  lamb 
to  slaughter. 

Villebon,  lovely,  vernal,  at  a  later  hour  the 
spot  for  gay  breakfasts  and  gentle  rendezvous, 
had  been  designated  for  the  meeting  between 
Dan  and  Poniotowsky.  There  in  his  motor  he 
gave  up  his  effort  to  set  his  thoughts  clear. 
Nothing  settled  down.  Even  the  ground  they 
flew  over,  the  trees  with  their  chestnut  plumes, 
blurred,  were  indistinct,  nebulous,  as  if  seen 
through  a  diving-bell  under  the  sea.  Fear — 
he  didn't  know  the  word.  He  wasn't  afraid — it 
wasn't  that;  yet  he  had  a  certainty  that  it  was 
all  up  with  him.  He  was  young — very  young 
— and  he  hadn't  done  much  with  the  job.  His 
304 


THE  PICTURE  OF  IT  ALL 

father  would  have  been  ashamed  of  him.  Then 
all  his  thoughts  went  to  Her.  The  two  men  in 
the  motor  floated  off  and  she  sat  there  as  she 
had  sat  yesterday  in  her  marvelously  pretty 
clothes — her  little  coral  shoes. 

He  had  held  those  bright,  little  feet  in  his 
hand  on  the  Thames  day:  they  had  just  filled 
his  great  hands.  Mechanically  he  spread  out 
his  firm,  broad  palms  on  the  soft  shoes.  Letty 
Lane — Letty  Lane — a  shiver  passed  through  his 
body;  the  sense  of  her,  the  touch  of  her,  the 
kisses  he  had  taken,  the  way  she  had  blown  up 
against  him  like  a  cloud — a  cloud  that,  as  he  held 
her,  became  the  substance  of  Paradise.  This 
brought  him  back  to  physical  life,  brutally.  He 
was  too  young  to  die. 

Those  little,  red  shoes  would  dance  on  his 
grave.  Was  she  asleep  now?  How  would  she 
know?  What  would  she  know? 

Then  Letty  Lane,  too,  spirited  away,  and  the 
boy's  thoughts  turned  to  the  man  he  was  to 
meet.  "The  affairs  are  purely  formal,"  he  had 
305 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

heard  some  one  say,  "an  exchange  of  balls, 
without  serious  results." 

One  of  his  companions  offered  Blair  a  cigar. 
He  refused,  the  idea  sickened  him.  Here  the 
gentlemen  exchanged  glances,  and  one  mur- 
mured, "Is  he  afraid?" 

The  other  shrugged. 

"Not  astonishing — he's  a  child." 

At  this  Dan  glanced  up  and  smiled — what 
Lily,  Duchess  of  Breakwater,  had  called  his  di- 
vine young  smile.  The  two  secretly  were  ashamed 
— he  was  charming. 

As  they  got  out  of  the  motor  Dan  said : 

"I  want  to  ask  a  question  of  Prince  Ponio- 
towsky — if  it  is  allowed.  I'll  write  it  on  my 
card." 

After  a  conference  between  Prince  Poniotow- 
sky's  seconds  and  Dan's,  the  slip  was  handed 
the  prince. 

"If  you  get  out  all  right,  will  you  marry  Miss 
Lane?  I  shall  be  glad  to  know." 

306 


THE  PICTURE  OF  IT  ALL 

The  Hungarian,  who  read  it  under  the  tree, 
half  smiled.  The  naivete  of  it,  the  touching 
youth  of  it,  the  crude  lack  of  form — was  per- 
fect enough  to  touch  his  sense  of  humor.  On 
the  back  of  Dan's  card  Poniotowsky  scrawled : 

"Yes." 

It  was  a  haughty  inclination,  a  salute  of 
honor  before  the  fight. 

The  meeting  place  was  within  sight  of  the 
little  rustic  pavilion  of  Les  Trois  Agneaux, 
celebrated  for  its  pre  sale  and  belgnets:  the  ad- 
vertisements had  confronted  Dan  everywhere 
during  his  wanderings  those  miserable  days. 
Under  a  group  of  chestnut  trees  in  bright  feath- 
ery flower  Prince  Poniotowsky  and  his  seconds 
waited,  their  frock-coats  buttoned  up  and  their 
gloves  and  silk  hats  in  their  hands.  As  Blair 
and  his  companions  came  up  the  others  stood 
uncovered,  grim  and  formal,  according  to  the 
code. 

On  the  highroad  a  short  distance  away  ranged 
the  motors  which  had  fetched  the  gentlemen 
307 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

from  Paris,  and  the  car  in  which  the  physician 
had  come — an  ugly  and  sinister  gathering  in 
the  peace  and  beauty  of  the  serene  summer 
morning. 

Finches  and  thrushes  sang  in  the  bushes,  over 
the  grass  the  dew  still  hung  in  crystals,  and  a 
peasant  walking  at  his  horses'  heads  on  the  slow 
tramp  back  from  the  Paris  market,  was  held  up 
and  kept  stolidly  waiting  at  a  few  hundred 
yards  away. 

Twenty-five  paces.  They  were  measured  off 
by  the  four  seconds,  and  at  their  signal  Dan 
Blair  and  the  prince  took  their  positions,  the 
revolvers  raised  perpendicularly  in  their  right 
hands. 

Still  more  indistinctly  the  boy  saw  the  sharp- 
cut  picture  of  it  all  .  .  .  the  diving-bell  was 
sinking  deeper — deeper — into  the  sea. 

"If  I  aim,"  he  said  to  himself,  "I  shall  kill 
sure — sure." 

Blair  heard  the  command :    "Fire !"  and  sup- 
posed that  after  that  he  fired. 
308 


CHAPTER  XXX 

SODAWATER    FOUNTAIN    GIRL 

HIS  next  sensation  was  that  a  warm  stream 
flowed  about  his  heart. 

"My  life's  blood,"  he  could  dimly  think, 
"my  heart's  blood."  Redder  than  coral,  more 
precious,  more  costly  than  any  gift  his  millions 
could  have  bought  her.  "I've  spent  it  for  the 
girl  I  love."  The  stream  pervaded  him,  caressed 
him,  folded  his  limbs  about,  became  an  en- 
chanted sea  on  which  he  floated,  and  its  color 
changed  from  crimson  to  coral  pale,  and  then  to 
white,  and  became  a  cold,  cold  polar  sea — and 
he  lay  on  it  like  a  frozen  man,  whose  explora- 
tion had  been  in  vain,  and  above  him  Green- 
land's icy  mountains  rose  like  emerald,  on  every 
side. 

That  is  it — "Greenland's  icy  mountains." 
309 


THE    GIRL   FROM    HIS    TOWN 

How  she  sang  it — down — down.  Her  voice  fell 
on  him  like  magic  balm.  He  was  a  little  boy 
in  church,  sitting  small  and  shy  in  the  pew. 
The  tune  was  deep  and  low  and  heavenly  sweet. 
What  a  pretty  mouth  the  soda-fountain  girl  had 
— like  coral;  and  her  eyes  like  gray  seas.  The 
flies  buzzed,  they  droned  so  loudly  that  he 
couldn't  hear  her.  Ah,  that  was  terrible — he 
couldn't  hear  her. 

No — no,  it  wouldn't  do.  He  must  hear  the 
hymn  out  before  he  died.  Buzz — buzz — drone 
— drone.  Way  down  he  almost  heard  the  soft 
note.  It  was  ecstasy.  Sky — high  up — too 
faint.  Ah,  Sodawater  Fountain  Girl — sing — 
sing — with  all  your  heart  so  that  it  may  reach 
his  ears  and  charm  him  to  those  strands  to- 
ward which  he  floats. 

The  expression  of  anguish  on  the  young  fel- 
low's face  was  so  heartbreaking  that  the  doctor, 
his  ear  at  Dan's  lips,  tried  to  learn  what  thing 
his  poor,  fading  mind  longed  for. 
310 


SODAWATER  FOUNTAIN   GIRL 

From  tHe  bed's  fool',  where  he  stood,  Dan's 
chauffeur  came  to  his  gentleman's  side,  and 
nodded : 

"Right,  sir,  right,  sir — I'll  fetch  Miss  Lane 
— I'll  'ave  'er  'ere,  sir — keep  up,  Mr.  Blair." 

He  was  going  barefoot,  a  boy  still  following 
the  plow  through  the  mountain  fields.  Miles 
and  miles  stretched  away  before  him  of  dark, 
loamy  land.  He  saw  the  plow  tear  up  the  waving 
furrows,  tossing  the  earth  in  sprinkling  lines. 
He  heard  the  shrill  note  of  the  phoebe  bird,  and 
looking  heavenward  saw  it  darting  into  the  pale 
sky. 

"What  a  dandy  shot !"  he  thought.  "What  a 
bully  shot!" 

Prince  Poniotowsky  had  made  a  good 
shot.  .  .  . 

Ah,  there  was  the  smell  of  the  hayfields — no 

— violets  that  sweetly  laid  their  petals  on  his 

lips  and  face.     He  was  back  again  in  church, 

lying  prone  before  an  altar.    If  she  would  only 

311 


THE    GIRL   FROM   HIS    TOWN 

sing,  he  would  rise  again — that  he  knew — and 
her  coral  shoes  would  not  dance  over  his  grave. 

He  opened  his  eyes  wide  and  looked  into  Lett J 
Lane's.  She  bent  over  him,  crying. 

"Sing,"  he  whispered. 

She  didn't  understand. 

"Sodawater  Fountain  Girl — if  you  only  knew 
how  .  .  .  the  flies  buzzed,  and  how  the  dron- 
ing was  a  living  pain.  ..." 

She  said  to  Ruggles:  "He  wants  something 
so  heartbreakingly — what  can  we  do?"  She  saw 
his  hands  stir  rhythmically  on  the  counterpane 
— he  didn't  look  to  her  more  than  ten  years  old. 
.  .  .  What  a  cruel  thing — he  was  a  boy  just 
of  age — a  boy — 

Ruggles  remembered  the  nights  he  had  spent 
before  the  footlights  of  the  Gaiety,  and  that  the 
pale  woman  trembling  there  weeping  was  a  great 
singer. 

"I  guess  he  wants  to  hear  you  sing." 

She  kneeled  down  by  him ;  she  trembled  so  she 
couldn't  stand. 

The  others,  the  doctor  and  Ruggles,  the  wait- 
312 


SODAWATER  FOUNTAIN   GIRL 

ers  and  porters  gathered  in  the  hall,  heard.  No 
one  of  them  understood  the  Gaiety  girl's  Eng- 
lish words. 


"From  Greenland's  icy  mountains, 
From  India's  coral  strands    . 


They  were  merciful  and  let  him  listen  in 
peace.  Through  the  blur  in  his  brain,  over  the 
beat  of  his  young  ardent  heart,  above  the  short 
breaths  the  notes  reached  his  failing  senses,  and 
lifted  him — lifted  him.  There  wasn't  a  very 
long  distance  between  his  boyhood  and  his 
twenty-two  years  to  go,  and  he  was  not  so 
weak  but  that  he  could  travel  so  far. 

He  sat  there  by  his  father  again — and  heard. 
The  flies  buzzed,  and  he  didn't  mind  them.  The 
smell  of  the  fields  came  in  through  the  windows 
and  the  Sodawater  Fountain  Girl  sang — and 
sang ;  and  as  she  sang  her  face  grew  holy  to  his 
eyes — radiant  with  a  beauty  he  had  not  dreamed 
a  woman's  face  could  wear.  Above  the  choir  rail 
she  stood  and  sang  peerlessly,  and  the  church 
313 


THE    GIRL   FROM    HIS    TOWN 

began  to  fade  and  fade,  and  still  she  stood  there 
in  a  shaft  of  light,  and  her  face  was  like  an 
angel's,  and  she  held  her  arms  out  to  him  as  the 
waters  rose  to  his  lips.  She  bent  and  lifted  him 
— lifted  him  high  upon  the  strands.  .  .  . 


314 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

IN  REALITY 

DAN  awoke  from  his  dream,  and  sat  sud- 
denly up  in  bed  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  and 
stared  at  the  people  in  his  room, — a  hotel  boy 
and  two  strangers,  not  unlike  the  men  in  his 
dream.  He  brushed  his  hand  across  his  eyes. 

"Sit  down,  will  you?  Do  you  speak  Eng- 
lish?" 

They  were  foreigners,  but  they  did  speak 
English,  no  doubt  far  more  perfectly  than  did 
Dan  Blair. 

"Look  here,"  the  boy  said,  "I  don't  know 
what's  the  matter  with  me — I  must  have  had  a 
ripping  jag  on  last  night — let  me  put  my  head 
in  a  basin  of  water,  will  you  ?" 

He  dived  into  the  dressing-room,  and  came 
out  in  another  second,  his  blond  head  wet, 
315 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

wiping  his  face  and  hair  furiously  with  a  towel. 
He  hadn't  beamed  as  he  did  now  on  these  two 
strange  men — for  weeks. 

"Well,"  he  asked  slowly,  "I  expect  you've 
come  to  ask  me  to  fight  with  Prince  Poniotow- 
sky — yes?  It's  against  our  principles,  you 
know,  in  the  States — we  don't  do  that  way. 
Personally,  I'd  throw  anything  at  him  I  could 
lay  my  hands  on,  but  I  don't  care  to  have  him 
let  daylight  through  me,  and  I  don't  care  to  kill 
your  friend.  See?  I'm  an  American — yes,  I 
know,  I  know,"  he  nodded  sagely,  "but  we  don't 
have  your  kind  of  fights  out  our  way.  It  means 
business  when  we  go  out  to  shoot." 

He  threw  the  towel  down  on  the  table,  soak- 
ing wet  as  it  was,  put  his  hands  in  the  pockets 
of  his  evening  clothes,  which  he  still  wore,  for 
he  had  not  undressed,  threw  his  young,  blond 
head  back  and  frankly  told  his  visitors : 

"I'm  not  up  on  swords.  I've  seen  them  in  pic- 
tures and  read  about  them,  but  I'll  be  darned  if 
I've  ever  had  one  in  my  hand." 
316 


IN  REALITY 

His  expression  changed  at  the  quiet  response 
of  Poniotowsky's  seconds. 

"Gee.  Whew!"  he  exclaimed,  "he  does,  does 
he?  Twenty  paces — revolvers — why,  he's  a  bird 
—a  bird!" 

A  slight  flush  rose  along  Dan's  cheeks.  "I 
never  liked  him,  and  you  don't  want  to  hear  what 
I  think  of  him.  But  I'll  be  darned  if  he  isn't  a 
bird." 

His  eyes  caught  sight  of  a  blue  envelope  on 
the  table.  He  tore  the  telegram  open.  It  was 
Ruggles'  answer  to  his  question: 

"Quite  true.  Tell  you  about  it.  Arrive 
your  hotel  around  noon." 

The  despatch  informed  him  that  he  was  really 
a  pauper  and  also  that  he  had  a  second  for  his 
duel  with  Poniotowsky.  His  guests  stood  for- 
mally before  the  young  barbarian. 

"Look  here,"  he  continued  amiably,  "I  can't 
meet  your  Dago  friend  like  this,  it's  not  fair. 
He  hasn't  seen  me  shoot ;  it  isn't  for  me  to  say 
317 


THE    GIRL   FROM    HIS    TOWN 

it,  but  I  can't  miss.  Hold,"  he  interrupted, 
"he  has,  too.  He  was  at  the  Galoreys'  at  that 
first  shoot.  Ah — well,  I  refuse,  tell  him  so,  will 
you?  Tell  him  I'm  an  American  and  a  cowboy 
and  that  for  me  a  duel  at  twenty  paces  with  a 
pistol  would  mean  murder.  I  like  his  pluck — 
it's  all  right — tell  him  anything  you  like.  He 
ought  to  have  chosen  swords.  He  would  have 
had  me  there." 

They  retired  as  formally  as  they  had  en- 
tered, and  took  his  answer  to  their  client,  and 
after  a  bath  and  careful  toilet  Dan  went  out, 
leaving  a  line  for  Ruggles,  to  say  that  he  would 
be  at  the  hotel  to  meet  him  at  noon. 


•     318 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

THE   PRINCE  ACCEPTS 

THE  Hungarian,  in  the  Continental,  was 
drinking  his  coffee  in  his  room  when  his 
friends  found  him.  He  listened  to  what  they 
had  to  say  coolly.  His  eye-glass  gave  him  an  air 
of  full  dress  even  at  this  early  hour.  Ponio- 
towsky  had  not  fallen  into  a  deep  sleep  and  had 
a  dream  as  Dan  Blair  had — indeed  he  had  only 
reached  his  rooms  the  night  before  when  a  letter 
had  been  brought  him  from  Miss  Lane.  He 
was  used  to  her  caprices,  which  were  countless, 
and  he  never  left  her  with  any  certainty  that 
he  should  see  her  again,  or  with  any  idea  of 
what  her  next  move  would  be.  The  letter  read : 

"It's  no  use.  I  just  can't.  I've  always  told 
you  so,  and  I  mean  it.  I'm  tired  out — I  want 
to  go  away  and  never  see  any  one  again.  I 

319 


THE    GIRL   FROM    HIS    TOWN 

want  to  die.  I  shall  be  dead  next  year,  and  I 
don't  care.  Please  leave  me  alone  and  don't 
come  to  see  me,  and  for  heaven's  sake  don't  bore 
me  with  notes." 


When  Poniotowsky  received  this  note  he  had 
shrugged,  and  decided  that  if  he  lived  after  his 
duel  with  the  young  savage  he  would  go  to  see 
the  actress,  taking  a  jewel  or  a  gift — he  would 
get  her  a  Pomeranian  dog,  and  all  would  be 
well.  He  listened  coolly  to  what  his  friends  had 
to  say. 

"C'est  un  enfant,"  one  of  them  remarked 
sneeringly. 

"In  my  mind,  he  is  a  coward,"  said  the 
other. 

"On  the  contrary,"  answered  Poniotowsky 
coolly,  "he  shoots  to  perfection.  You  will  be 
surprised  to  hear  that  I  admire  his  refusal.  I 
accept  his  decision,  as  his  skill  is  unquestioned 
with  arms.  I  choose  to  look  upon  this  reply  as 
an  apology.  I  would  like  to  have  you  inform 
Mr.  Blair  of  this  fact.  He's  young  enough  to 
320 


THE    PRINCE    ACCEPTS 

be  my  son,  and  lie  is  a  barbarian.    The  incident 
is  closed." 

He  put  Letty  Lane's  note  in  his  pocket,  and 
leisurely  prepared  to  go  out  on  the  Rue  de  Cas- 
tiglione  to  buy  her  a  Pomeranian  dog. 


321 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

THE    THINGS   ABOVE    GROUND 

HIGGINS  let  him  in,  and  across  the  room 
Blair  saw  the  figure  of  the  actress 
against  the  light  of  the  long  window.  Her 
back  was  to  him  as  he  came  up,  and  though  she 
knew  who  it  was,  she  was  far  from  dreaming 
how  different  a  man  it  was  that  came  in  to  see 
her  this  morning  from  the  one  she  had  known. 

"Won't  you  turn  around  and  bid  me  good- 
by?"  he  asked  her.  "I'm  going  away." 

She  gave  him  a  languid  hand  without  looking 
at  him. 

"Has  Higgins  gone?" 

"Yes.  Won't  you  turn  round  and  say  how- 
de-do,  and  good-by?  Gosh,"  he  cried  as  she 
turned,  "how  pale  you  are,  darling."  And  he 
took  her  in  his  arms. 


THE    THINGS    ABOVE    GROUND 

The  vision  he  had  had  of  her  in  her  coral- 
colored  dress  at  Maxim's  gave  place  to  the  more 
radiant  one  which  had  shone  on  him  in  his  curi- 
ous dream. 

"Are  you  very  ill?"  he  murmured.  "Speak  to 
me — tell  me — are  you  going  to  die?" 

"Don't  be  a  goose,  boy." 

"I've  had  a  wire  from  Ruggles,"  Dan  said; 
"he  tells  me  it's  true.  I  have  nothing  but  my 
own  feet  to  stand  on,  and  I'm  as  poor  as 
Job's  turkey."  Looking  at  her  impressively,  he 
added,  "I  only  mind  because  it  will  be  hard  on 
you." 

"Hard  on  me?" 

"Yes,  you'll  have  to  start  poor.  Mother  did 
with  father,  out  there  in  Montana.  It  will  be 
rough  at  first,  but  others  have  done  it  and  been 
happy,  and  we've  got  each  other."  The  eyes 
fixed  on  her  were  as  blue  as  the  summer  skies. 
"Money's  a  darned  poor  thing  to  buy  happiness 
with,  Letty.  It  didn't  buy  me  a  thing  fit  to 
keep,  that's  the  truth.  I've  never  been  so  gay 
323 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

since  I  was  born  as  I  am  to-day.  Why,  I  feel," 
he  said,  and  would  have  stretched  out  his  arms, 
only  he  held  her  with  them,  "like  a  king.  Later 
I'll  have  money  again,  all  right — don't  fret — 
and  then  I'll  know  its  worth.  I'll  bet  you 
weren't  all  unhappy  there  in  Blairtown  before 
you  turned  the  heads  of  all  those  Johnnies." 
He  put  one  hand  against  her  cheek  and  lifted 
her  drooping  head.  "Lean  on  me,  sweetheart," 
he  said  with  great  tenderness.  "It  will  be  all 
right." 

A  coral  color  stole  along  her  cheek:  it  rose 
like  a  sweet  tide  under  his  hand.  She  looked  at 
him,  fascinated. 

"It's  not  a  real  tragedy,"  he  went  on.  "I've 
got  my  letter  of  credit,  and  old  Ruggles  will  let 
me  hang  on  to  that,  and  you'll  find  the  motor 
cars  and  jewels  will  look  like  thirty  cents  when 
we  stand  in  the  door  of  our  little  shack  and 
look  out  at  the  Value  Mine."  He  lifted  her  hand 
to  his  lips,  held  it  there,  and  the  spark  ignited 
in  her;  his  youth  and  confidence,  his  force  and 


THE    THINGS    ABOVE    GROUND 

passion,  woke  a  woman  in  Letty  Lane  that  had 
never  lived  before  that  hour. 

He  murmured:  "I'll  be  there  with  you,  dar- 
ling— night  and  day — night  and  day!"  He 
brought  his  bright  face  close  to  hers. 

She  found  breath  to  say,  "What  has  hap- 
pened to  you,  Dan — what?" 

"I  don't  know,"  he  gravely  replied.  "I  guess 
I  came  up  pretty  close  against  it  last  night; 
things  got  into  their  right  places,  and  then  and 
there  I  knew  you  were  the  girl  for  me,  and  I  the 
man  for  you,  rich  or  poor." 

He  kissed  her  and  she  passively  received  his 
caresses,  so  passively,  so  without  making  him 
any  sign,  that  his  magnificent  assurance  began 
to  be  shaken — his  arms  fell  from  her. 

"It's  quite  true,"  he  murmured,  "I  am  poor." 

She  led  him  to  the  lounge  and  made  him  sit 
down  by  her.  He  waited  for  her  to  speak,  but 
she  remained  silent,  her  eyes  fixed  on  her  frail 
hands,  ringless — tears  forced  themselves  under 
her  eyelids,  but  she  kept  them  back. 
325 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

"I  guess,"  she  said  in  a  veiled  tone,  "you've 
no  idea  all  I've  been  through,  Dan,  since  I  stood 
there  in  the  church  choir." 

American  though  he  was,  and  down  on  for- 
eign customs — he  wouldn't  fight  a  duel — he  got 
down  on  his  knees  and  put  his  arms  around  her 
from  there. 

"I  know  what  you  are,  all  right,  Letty.  You 
are  an  angel." 

She  gave  way  and  burst  into  tears  and  hid 
her  face  on  his  shoulder,  and  sobbed. 

"I  believe  you  do — I  believe  you  do.  You've 
saved  my  soul  and  my  life.  I'll  go  with  you — 
I'll  go— I'll  go!" 

Later  she  told  him  how  she  would  learn  to 
cook  and  sew,  and  that  together  they  would 
stand  in  the  door  of  their  shack  at  sunset,  or 
that  she  would  stand  and  watch  for  him  to  come 
home ;  and,  the  actress  in  her  strong,  she  sprang 
up  for  a  minute  and  stood  shielding  her  eyes 
with  her  slender  hand  to  show  him  how.  And 
326 


THE    THINGS    ABOVE    GROUND 

he  gazed,  charmed  at  her,  and  drew  her  back  to 
him  again. 

"You've  made  dad's  words  come  true."  Dan 
wouldn't  tell  her  what  they  were — he  said  she 
wouldn't  understand.  "I  nearly  had  to  die  to 
learn  them  myself,"  he  said. 

She  leaned  toward  him,  a  slight  shadow 
crossed  her  face  as  if  memories  laid  a  darkling 
wing  for  a  moment  there.  Such  shadows  must 
have  passed,  for  she  kissed  him  of  her  own  ac- 
cord on  the  lips  and  without  a  sigh. 

Side  by  side  they  sat  for  a  long  time.  Hig- 
gins  softly  opened  a  door,  saw  them,  and  stepped 
back,  unheard. 

Ruggles  came  in,  and  his  steps  in  the  soft 
carpet  made  no  sound ;  and  he  looked  at  the  pair 
long  and  tenderly  before  he  spoke.  They  sat 
there  before  him  like  children,  holding  hands. 

Letty  Lane's  hat  lay  on  the  floor.  Her  hair 
was  a  halo  around  her  pale,  charming  face;  she 
had  caught  youth  from  the  boy,  she  was  laugh- 
ing like  a  girl — they  were  making  plans.  And 
327 


THE    GIRL    FROM    HIS    TOWN 

as  the  subject  was  Love,  and  there  was  no 
money  in  the  question,  and  as  there  was  sacri- 
fice on  the  part  of  each,  it  is  safe  to  think  that 
old  Dan  Blair's  son  was  planning  to  purchase 
those  things  that  stay  above  ground  and  per- 
sist in  the  hearts  of  us  all. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000035965     3 


